


Birth of Roxas

by OstelanExcruciasm



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Canon, Baby Roxas, Cute, Daddy Axel, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Mommy Saix, Parenthood, Pre-Canon, Pre-Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2020-01-31 14:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OstelanExcruciasm/pseuds/OstelanExcruciasm
Summary: What happened to Roxas in those first 7 days?  An alternate interpretation of how such a unique and special Nobody is born, and what his first week may have been like.





	1. Chapter 1

****Axel impatiently paced back and forth across the gate in front of the Twilight Town Mansion.  He and Saïx had been waiting there for over an hour, having seen neither hide nor hair of any newborns.  Axel began to wonder if perhaps the new Nobody was born elsewhere.

“Sheesh, it’s taking forever.”

“Be patient, Axel.  These things take time.”

Axel scoffed, crossing his arms in frustration.  “Why do they always stick us with the babies? Do I look like some kind of nanny?”

Saïx spoke with his usual flat tone, looking at his comrade with the same blank expression he wore every day.  “You are considered one of the more approachable members of the Organization.”

“And you’re one of the least, so I still don’t see why we always get saddled with the little ones.”

Saïx shot him a menacing glare, the only other facial expression he seemed to have mastered in all the years they’d spent with the Organization.  “Making initial contact with the newborns has always been our role. Complaining will do you no good.”

Axel sighed and continued to traipse around until he was certain he’d wear the grass away.  Saïx rolled his eyes and waited quietly, leaning against the brick wall surrounding the courtyard.  The minutes continued to crawl by and Axel’s boredom grew to immeasurable levels. Just when he thought he was going to lose his mind, Saïx called for him.

“Axel, look.  He’s coming.”

Axel turned around just in time to see the transparent image of a small humanoid figure materializing from thin air.

“Well then, it’s about time!”  It took only a few seconds for the figure to sharpen and take its shape as a young boy, sitting naked on the grass with his legs folded beneath him.  He had blond hair that swept about in feathery wisps and deep blue eyes that stared vacantly at the ground. He was completely motionless and silent, more so than any other newborn they’d encountered.  Saïx peered at him with curiosity and mild concern.

“Is he breathing?”

Axel approached the child cautiously, kneeling beside him to listen.  He was in a profound catatonic state, neither breathing nor blinking. “Nope.”

“He doesn’t know how.  Just beat on his back a few times and he’ll start.”

Axel gave the child a few firm slaps between the shoulder blades and soon his body began to rise and fall with its first breaths.  Axel smiled at him, having never seen a newborn quite so helpless before. Watching this one reach his first most basic milestones was a fascinating experience for both him and Saïx.

“Well, Saïx, it’s a boy.”  Axel inspected the kid’s frail form with a raised eyebrow.  “He’s kinda scrawny, don’t you think?”

“The Keyblade Wielder was fourteen.”

“Really?  Man, that’s so young to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.  And to lose his heart when he had his whole life ahead of him… Poor kid…”

Saïx scoffed disapprovingly at him.  “You’re beginning to sound emotional.  Cast off your weakness. You and I were not much older than he is, if you recall.”

Axel heaved a defeated sigh.  “Yeah, I recall…”

Saïx knelt in front of the boy and gently lifted his head up so that the two could see his face.  His expression was completely lifeless, his enormously round eyes glossed over and his mouth hanging open.  “Child, can you hear us?”

The boy said nothing and remained perfectly still, staring blankly into the void.  Axel cringed as they waited in vain for him to respond to them, wondering if the kid was even aware of their presence.  “Man, he has such a way with words.”

“This is normal.  He likely won’t talk for a few days.”

Saïx turned his head this way and that, examining his features closely with narrowed eyes as if inspecting him for damage.  The boy was a blank slate, but he otherwise appeared to be healthy. Axel noticed that the child’s eyes fixed on Saïx’s face, his empty gaze locking in place as his head was swiveled around.  “Hey, his eyes are following you.”

“Good.  That means he can see.”

“Hey, kid!  Welcome to the world!”

The boy’s eyes darted over to Axel’s face, seemingly reacting to his enthusiastic greeting.  He slowly turned his head to face Axel directly, prompting a smile from the man. Saïx nodded his approval and rose to his feet.  “And now we know he can hear. Put this on him or he’ll freeze.”

He tossed Axel a black leather coat he’d brought along, hoping it would fit the newborn’s tiny frame.  Axel threw the coat over him, stuffing the boy’s arms into the sleeves and pulling the zipper closed. The coat was slightly oversized but would suffice until they could take him to the castle.  The child didn’t struggle or protest, his head hanging heavily off his shoulders and his limbs drooping limply as Axel maneuvered them into the garment.

“Wasn’t Lord Xemnas supposed to be coming?”

“Any moment now.  Let’s see if he can stand.”

Each man took an arm and lifted the child to his feet.  Axel and Saïx held him steady as he stumbled around in place, trying to understand how to make his skinny legs work.

“Whoa there, easy.  He’s pretty wobbly.”

“He’s disoriented.  Hold him steady until he regains his sense of balance.”

After a few moments, the boy managed to stabilize his legs, learning how to bear his own weight upon them without toppling over.  He stood in place, staring intently at his own feet.

“There you go!  You got it!”

“Good.  Now, Axel, let him go.”

They very slowly released their hold on him, backing away an inch at a time.  Though he wavered slightly, he remained standing, gradually straightening his back and lifting his head and shoulders until he had developed a more natural looking stance.

“Nice!  Great job, kid.”

Their lessons were interrupted by the sound of a dark corridor opening, and they turned to find another hooded figure emerge from the familiar black portal.  Pulling their hoods over their heads, they stepped back to allow their leader to play his role in the boy’s initiation. The Superior towered over the child with an air of authority about him, offering his official greeting in a hauntingly deep voice.

“You seek answers.  You feel nothing. Nothing is real.  I can give you purpose…”

The boy stared up at him in silence, unfazed by his intimidatingly imposing form.  As the man waved his palm across the newborn’s forehead, the child gasped and his eyes widened, producing his first facial expression.  The Superior’s last word was the most important of the Rite of Initiation.

“...Roxas.”

After bestowing upon the child a suitable name, their leader completed the ceremony and returned to his dark portal with a nod to each of his subordinates.  Once he disappeared, Axel and Saïx lowered their hoods to formally introduce themselves.

“So, it’s Roxas, is it?  Nice to meet you, Roxas. My name is Axel, and this is Saïx.  Got it memorized?”

Their introduction was met with only more silence.  Roxas appeared to be looking right through them. Saïx clarified the purpose of the ritual, hoping the child’s cognitive abilities were developing quickly enough for him to process and remember the day’s events.

“Roxas is your name, and we will address you as such.  Do you understand?”

Roxas still said nothing, wearing a slightly confused expression.  After sharing a look, the men each extended an arm toward the boy, beckoning him toward the open portal.

“Come now, Roxas.  Let’s go home.”

Saïx gestured to the corridor of darkness as he called out to him.  For several seconds, Roxas only stared at them, unsure of what to do.  The men waited patiently while the child concentrated. Finally, Roxas managed to lift one of his legs and took a small step forward, pausing briefly to re-learn how to balance in this new orientation.  Soon he was able to take another step, and then another, slowly making his way toward the portal.

“Yes, that’s it, Roxas.”

Saïx had no sooner finished delivering his praise than Roxas misstepped and began to stumble.  His knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. Axel, with a gasp of concern, was about to rush to the boy’s side when Saïx stopped him.

“Don’t, Axel.  Let him figure it out.”

Axel remained frozen, tensely watching as the newborn tried to regain control of his limbs.  Roxas channeled his strength into lifting himself off of the grass and puzzled out how to get his legs back under him.  He made several failed attempts to bring himself upright before finally managing to plant his feet into the ground.

“Come on… You can do it, Roxas!”

Out of breath but fiercely determined, Roxas bore his legs into the ground with all the force he could spare, slowly rising until he could stand and face the two men once more.

“Yes!  He did it!”

“Excellent.  Now, try again.”

With outstretched arms, Axel and Saïx beckoned Roxas again.  He cautiously took another step, taking care to maintain his balance as he proceeded toward the dark corridor.  As his stride lengthened and his pace accelerated, his fellow comrades congratulated him on a job well done. Successfully completing the day’s most difficult lesson, Roxas had learned to walk.

He paused as he reached the portal, appearing apprehensive about going inside.  He looked back and forth between the faces of his new comrades with visible tension in his brow.

“There is nothing to fear.  Come this way.”

Saïx led the way into the corridor.  Axel gave Roxas a gentle nudge and he quickly followed the man.  Axel closed the portal behind them and guided Roxas through the darkness until they had reached the castle.  As requested by the Superior, the Grey Area was empty, so as not to overwhelm the newcomer. Roxas’ wide eyes scanned the entire room, taking in as much information as they could absorb.  Axel couldn’t help but smile at the look of awe and wonder on the kid’s face.

“Aww, look at him.  I think he likes it here.”

“I should hope so.  He lives here now.”

Roxas had turned to gaze out the window at the black sky.  He was still silent, but his fascination was palpable. It was a promising sign that he had come along willingly and with no fuss.  Those were usually the ones that stuck around, and Axel looked forward to getting to know this newbie in particular.

“Welcome home, Roxas.”

* * *

“All right, try this one.”

Saïx pulled yet another coat from the deepest part of the closet and tossed it to Axel.  He’d lost count of how many coats they tried, each one proving to be too large for such a small kid.  Axel held the coat up to Roxas’ body, trying to eyeball whether or not it might fit. It was a struggle getting each coat on and off Roxas, who was not only still getting used to his limbs, but his eyesight was likely still quite fuzzy and his mind was still learning how to commit tasks like these to memory.  Every coat was just another puzzle that he wasn’t experienced enough to solve on his own.

“Okay, Roxas, do you remember how to put it on?”

Roxas stared at the garment with a look of intense concentration.  Several seconds passed in silence before Axel decided to give him a reminder.

“You put your arms in the holes…”

Roxas hesitantly slid his arms into the sleeves but had failed to remember to turn around first, ending up with the coat on backwards.

“Heh… the hood goes in the back, buddy.  Turn it around.”

Roxas stood frozen in place, clearly lost, but Axel could see the gears turning in his head and refused to give him the answer this time.  Roxas looked down at his own coat for a few seconds, contemplating. He plucked at the leather in several places, searching diligently for the solution.  With a furrowed brow, he cautiously stepped behind Axel and closely examined the back of his coat. After a short, tense silence, he circled back around to his original position, glancing up and down Axel’s front side with deeply focused eyes.

“Saïx, look…”

The two men watched in awe as, one sleeve at a time, Roxas pulled his own coat off, turned it around, and slid his arms into the sleeves the proper way.  Axel applauded him for his accomplishment. “Yes! You did it! You remember what the next step is?”

Roxas fiddled with the zipper for quite some time, struggling to line up the grooves on the slider.  Eventually, he managed to hook the two sides together, pulling the zipper all the way up to his chin — far higher than anyone else in the Organization wore it.

“That’s close enough.  Okay Saïx, this one fits.”  Axel inspected the garment, adjusting the zipper and straps.  The coat had likely belonged to Zexion previously, the Organization’s youngest member.  It was almost perfectly suited to Roxas’ tiny frame, and the boy appeared to be comfortable enough wearing it.

“Good.  The ceremony will start soon.  We need to get him downstairs. Is he ready?”

“Hold on a second, this part is important…”

Axel had Roxas looking at his reflection in the mirror, something which startled the kid earlier when they first arrived.  It took a long while to get him to stand in front of the mirror again so that they could explain what it was he saw. Axel was now picking away at Roxas’ tousled hair, pulling chunks of it in every direction until it looked bold and disorderly.

“...there.”

Saïx eyed him disapprovingly.  “It looks worse, Axel.”

“What?!  I’d like to see you do better.”

Saïx approached Roxas and effortlessly adjusted his hair until its gentle layers developed a tasteful windswept appearance.  Axel’s jaw dropped when he saw the results. “Wow. I’m actually impressed. He looks great. How did you do that?”

Without a word, Saïx raised an eyebrow at him, waiting patiently for Axel to realize his mistake.  It didn’t take long for him to get the message. While Axel certainly boasted an impressive head of fiery red mane, Saix’s blue hair was easily twice the length of Axel’s, reaching halfway down his back, and it somehow managed to always look healthy and vibrant, never a tangle or split end in sight, and not a single lock out of place.  He laced his fingers through it, dragging them out with a gentle flip, as if showing off its luxuriant silkiness. “You think I just woke up like this?”

“You are the gayest gay that ever gayed gaily.”

“Don’t be vulgar in front of the child.  Let’s go. Come, Roxas.”

They headed out the door with Roxas in tow, making their way toward the Room Where Nothing Gathers.  Roxas took small, slow steps, staring intently into the floor as he walked. Saïx took the liberty of explaining the upcoming event to Roxas, uncertain whether or not the boy was even listening.

“Roxas, the man you met at your birthplace was our leader, Lord Xemnas.  He performed the Rite of Initiation, and you were given a name. Now, he will perform the Rite of Induction, and you will be given a number.  Then, you will officially join Organization XIII.”

Roxas looked up at him, at least indicating that he had heard Saïx’s explanation, but he still spoke no words and his face remained unreadable.  Axel laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll be right behind you. You don’t have to do anything but stand there and look pretty.”

Roxas stared into the distance with no outward reaction to anything the two of them said.  Axel was almost beginning to worry about the kid. This was supposed to be the Nobody of the Keyblade Wielder?  “Think he understands a word of what we’re saying?”

“I don’t know.  Best not say anything impolite in case he can.”

The Round Room had a door, but it was rarely used.  Most members used corridors of darkness to warp themselves directly to their seats.  This was one of the few occasions where the door was necessary. New comrades were always presented to the group from the floor in the center of the room, followed by a chosen representative — usually the person who recruited them.  When they reached the tall door, Saïx nodded to his comrade, summoned a portal of his own and disappeared inside. Axel looked down at Roxas with a warm smile.

“You ready, kid?”

Roxas said nothing, but his facial expression began to change.  If Axel didn’t know any better, he’d think the boy looked anxious or afraid.  Axel patted him on the back, hoping that if he was actually nervous, he could put him at ease.

“All right, it’s time.  Let’s go, Roxas.”

He led Roxas inside and to the round platform where he was to stand.  The room was a blinding white color, from the walls to the furniture to the floor.  Thirteen thrones surrounded the center platform, each of differing height, all of which standing several feet high.  Eleven of the seats contained a hooded figure staring down at Roxas. The lowest seat, looming ominously behind him, was empty.

A hush fell over the room as the figures got their first look at the Keyblade Wielder’s Nobody.  Every face was etched with curiosity and anticipation. Roxas kept his head down and his eyes to the floor.  Axel gave him a gentle squeeze of the shoulder, prompting him to look up and, squinting in the bright light, meet the gaze of his new Superior, seated in the tallest throne.  Xemnas, casually leaning over the arm of his chair at least fifteen feet above the ground, offered him a welcoming but sinister smile. Axel could feel Roxas shudder with fright.

“Good tidings, friends.  I am pleased to announce that a new comrade has been chosen to wear the coat.  Let us welcome one of the Keyblade’s chosen. Number XIII, Roxas.”

At Xemnas’ announcement, the figures in the black cloaks responded with light applause.  Roxas recoiled at the sound, backing away only to be stopped by Axel. “Hey, it’s okay. The clapping is a good thing.  Don’t be afraid.”

When the applause died down, the Leader continued his introductory speech.  “With the addition of a Keyblade wielder, Organization XIII finally gains access to the key which will regain our lost selves.  Roxas commands the power to gather stray hearts and guide them to their proper resting place, Kingdom Hearts. We can now look forward to being whole, complete people again.”

The applause resumed, and the Superior flashed Roxas another frightful smile.  Roxas scanned the faces of his new comrades, appearing confused and nervous. His expression seemed to indicate that he was searching for something, but was unsure of what.  He turned around and looked up at Axel, his ocean blue eyes wide with fear and his body visibly trembling. Axel paused, stunned by the clarity of his emotional display. “Roxas?  What’s wrong, buddy?”

Roxas seemed as though he desperately wanted to say something but still hadn’t mastered speech.  After several seconds, still unable to utter a word, he let his shoulders slump in defeat. Axel patted him reassuringly on the head, hoping to cheer him up just long enough to finish the ceremony.  Thankfully, these rituals were often rather short, and Xemnas didn’t have much more to say.

“Roxas, it is an honor to count you among our rank.  By adding your unique abilities to our number, we grow stronger as an Organization.  Today is a truly momentous day.”

Xemnas delivered his closing remarks to the veteran members with a stern, fatherly tone of voice.  “I expect everyone to be on their best behavior during Roxas’ adjustment period. As fellow comrades, we are a family, and we must nurture that bond accordingly.”

There was a collective, visible clench as the members all straightened up in their seats, their full attention focused on their leader.  Xemnas smiled with an approving nod and gestured to the group a final time. “You are dismissed.”

Xemnas was the first to leave, and Roxas watched as the rest followed suit, vanishing into the same black portals he’d seen before.

“You hungry, Roxas?”

Roxas maintained his blank, lifeless stare, giving Axel no outward indication that he understood a word of what he was saying.  Axel shook his head with a light chuckle, incredulous at the kid’s comically empty demeanor. He hoped he would soon get to hear his voice, if only to be assured that he had one.  He looked forward to talking with Roxas, eager to hear what was inside that head of his. His curiosity would have to go unsatisfied for now, but he had high hopes for Number XIII.

* * *

“You did great, Roxas!  Welcome to the club! And look, I got you something to celebrate!”

Axel handed Roxas a sea salt ice cream bar before quickly taking a bite from his own.  Roxas stared at the dessert with the same blank expression he’d worn since his birth. Concerned that he would have to teach the kid how to eat, Axel decided to lead by example.  Roxas watched him intently for several seconds before bringing the ice cream bar to his lips. He very slowly nibbled off the corner of it, letting it rest in his mouth until it melted.  As soon as he had swallowed it, Axel gave him a congratulatory clap on the back and a proud smile.

“Good job!  Roxas, this is called sea salt ice cream.  It is a blessing unto mankind and is to be respected and revered.  Isn’t it delicious?”

Roxas continued to nibble timidly at his ice cream bar.  Axel was nearly finished with his own when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Don’t just feed him garbage, Axel.  You’ll make him sick.”

Saïx’s mysterious whisper was unmistakable, and Axel turned to see him standing in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed and yet another disapproving frown.  Axel defended his choice for Roxas’ first meal, insisting that Roxas should at least be able to enjoy it, thereby stoking his curiosity and motivating him to try other foods as well.

“Sea salt ice cream isn’t garbage!  It’s a gift from the heavens!”

Saïx maintained his exasperated glare, unamused by Axel’s performance.  “I thought I told you to start him on liquids only.”

“Ice cream _is_ a liquid.  And don’t be such a sour puss, I got you one, too.”

Saïx rolled his eyes before crossing the room to the counter where he prepared a cup of tea.  He soon joined them at the table, apprehensively watching Roxas gradually consume the melting ice cream bar with a look of stern concentration.  “I also specified that his first several meals should be bland. We don’t know if he can tolerate things like this.”

Axel glanced at Roxas to check his progress on the ice cream.  He could hardly suppress a laugh when he saw how much of it was spread on his face.  “He seems to be tolerating it just fine. Ice cream is harmless. Besides, I wanted him to start with something interesting enough to break him out of this funk he’s in.  I want him to look forward to his next meal.”

With a heavy sigh, Saïx relented before returning to casually sipping his tea.  “If he gets sick, he’s your problem. At least give him some water before he goes to sleep.”

“You’re such a mom.”

Roxas had finished his ice cream and was chewing on the wooden stick with determination.  Before Axel could react, Saïx reached over and pulled the stick from his mouth, shooting Axel an annoyed look.  Axel shrugged, cringing at his oversight.

“I forgot to tell you, Roxas, you don’t eat the stick.”

“He was mimicking you, Axel.”

“Huh?  What do you— Oh.  Right.”

Axel had forgotten his habit of chewing the sticks whenever he finished his ice cream bar.  He quickly removed the stick from his mouth and set it on the table with a sheepish giggle. Roxas stared at the table silently for several minutes.  Axel made a mental note that he would have to give the kid some lessons in conversation, although he could understand that even if Roxas could talk, his mind was empty and he wouldn’t have any idea what to say.

“Roxas, are you feeling alright?”

Roxas lifted his head to face Saïx with an oddly troubled expression.  Saïx leaned in to inspect the boy’s face but Roxas recoiled, as if startled by him.  Axel reassuringly patted his arm, growing even more worried about these apparent emotional spasms.

“Hey, Roxas, what’s the matter?  Saïx just wants to make sure you’re not sick.  Did that ice cream not agree with you after all?”

Roxas clasped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut and tucking his head down.  His skin had a subtle green tint to it, and Axel felt a slight twinge in his chest when he considered that Saïx might have been right and he’d made the kid sick.

“What’s wrong, little guy?  Does your head hurt?”

Saïx removed his gloves and cautiously laid his hands on Roxas’ face.  “Doesn’t feel warm, but he’s awfully pale.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was afraid of something.  But I can’t imagine what…”

“The Keyblade Wielder no doubt had a harrowing journey.  Perhaps some of the more unpleasant memories are awakening in him.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

Roxas’ eyelids began to fall, only to quickly spring open again as he fought to remain awake.  He yawned widely, alerting Axel and Saïx, who had lost track of time. It was late enough that they should all have been asleep by now.

“He looks tired.  It’s been a long day for him.  Take him to bed, Axel. We should turn in as well.”

“All right.  You want me over?”

Saïx paused, looking inward and giving the tempting offer some thought.  Against his better judgment, he arrived at his decision in a few short seconds.  “I’ll leave the door unlocked. Don’t take too long.”

* * *

Axel couldn’t help but notice that Saïx felt warmer than he usually did.  Axel had spent so many nights lying beside him, pressed against his bare chest, that he came to expect every sensation as routine.  Saïx’s skin was usually cold in these moments, making tonight the first time it had ever felt any different. Between the comfortable warmth and his steady breathing, Axel could easily have been lulled to sleep, but he noticed that Saïx was staring at the ceiling with his ‘thinking’ face on.

“What’s on your mind?”

Saïx didn’t answer right away, stalling for time to search for the right words.  “Nothing.”

Axel sat up to look the man directly in the eyes.  “Come on. Just tell me.”

Saïx heaved a sigh before rising to sit on the edge of the bed.  “Roxas is supposed to be the Nobody of the Keyblade Wielder. That boy is supposed to be powerful enough to have slain Xehanort’s Heartless.  Yet Roxas seems to have retained none of those skills or memories. It doesn’t make sense.”

Axel could admit that although most everyone who becomes a Nobody is disoriented at first, Roxas was especially lifeless, like a zombie.  He supposed maybe it was because Roxas’ Somebody was so young that he had less information to carry with him when he turned.

“He’s a newborn.  All newborns are a little out of it for a bit…”

Saïx was unconvinced by Axel’s theory.  “He was nearly as helpless as an _actual_ newborn.  I’ve never seen one so catatonic.”

“Maybe it’s just because he’s a kid.  I’m not worried.”

Saïx began to absentmindedly comb the tangles out of his long hair with his fingers as he gazed out the window at the moon.  “It really isn’t promising for the Organization. How can we reach our goals without a functioning Keyblade Wielder in our ranks?”

Axel stood and began the search for the clothing articles he’d flung hastily across the room earlier.  “It’s only his first day. Give him a chance. For all we know, he could be totally normal tomorrow. Might even come down here to wake _you_ up.”

Axel gradually dressed as he retrieved stray pieces of clothing.  “Which means I should get out of here, or we’ll have some explaining to do in the morning.”

“Hmph.  I’ve never felt the need to explain anything.”

Axel froze, dumbfounded by these words.  Saïx was a very private man, keeping his secrets under lock and key.  His cold, haunting demeanor was designed to preserve the mystery, frightening away any potential interlopers with a well-practiced, sinister glare.  Since when was he comfortable with being so open about something so personal?

“That’s surprising, coming from you.”

Saïx was tying his sweat-drenched hair into a messy knot resting on the back of his head.  “Why? It’s not like we’re much of a secret.”

“You mean you’d just come right out and say it if anyone asks?”

“No one asks.”

Axel chuckled at his answer, clever as it was.  He certainly had a point. The two of them were close from the very beginning, and everybody knew it.  Even after losing their hearts, they stuck together out of habit, taking comfort in each other’s company to ease the loneliness.  Lately, however, Saïx’s distant, antisocial behavior grew more and more off-putting for Axel, and their relationship had become rather strained as a result.  Still, they only had each other, and they clung to that familiarity like it was their only lifeline.

Saïx had left his place on the bed and perched on the windowsill, watching the moon.  Axel couldn’t help but admire his graceful silhouette, casually leaning against the glass. “Not even going to attempt to sleep?”

“You know I can’t, Axel.”

Axel paused, wincing at the remark.  “Come on… it’s just us. You don’t have to—“

“I’m sorry.  Lea.”

Saïx corrected himself quickly.  The pair resented their new names as soon as they were given them, vowing never to use them when they were alone.  The Organization renamed its members as a means of branding them. Upon the death of their human counterparts, Xemnas claimed that the newly animated empty husks required new identification, insisting the alternate labels signified camaraderie and a familial bond.  But most members were aware that the names were not new titles for new beginnings, but were instead symbols of ownership. The second that glaring letter X was attached to you, you belonged to Xemnas.

Axel required no apology but appreciated that Saïx gave him one all the same.  It was a rare occurrence. “You might feel better if you sleep.”

“I need to think.  Xemnas knows something about Roxas.  Something he hasn’t told anyone.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know.  A feeling, I suppose.”

Axel found this answer just as surprising since Saïx was usually rather defeatist and pessimistic about their inability to _feel_ anything.  Perhaps he used the phrase out of habit, alluding to something like intuition or suspicion — not human emotions, but technically feelings that Nobodies could still claim.

“What do you make of him?”

Considering Saïx’s question, Axel reflected on the day’s events.  Roxas had no personality at all and hadn’t done anything noteworthy enough to warrant any judgment.  Axel had nothing from which to draw any conclusions about the boy. “He’s a blank canvas. It’s like he really is an empty shell.  More so than any Nobody I’ve ever seen.”

Saïx pondered Axel’s observations thoughtfully, nodding in agreement before offering his own.  “He showed an emotion today.”

“Aw, is that what this is all about?  Are you upset because Roxas is afraid of you?”

“Roxas is incapable of being afraid of anything, and I am incapable of finding the idea upsetting.”

“Well I won’t speak for you, Isa, but Roxas’ face today was unmistakable.  He was afraid. Plain as day. At a lot more than just you, if it makes you feel any better.”

Saïx appeared almost troubled by this development.  He avoided eye contact with Axel, hiding the confusion in his eyes.  “I’m sure he was just startled. Being startled is an instinct. Very different from the emotion that is fear.”

“Do you believe that?”

Saïx caved and swiveled his head around to face Axel.  He had managed to restore his lifeless expression, but Axel knew him too well to be fooled.  Axel reached out to him as he turned and rested his forehead back on the cold glass pane. “What are you planning to do?”

Saïx shook his head with a heavy sigh.  “I don’t know yet.”

Axel, pulling up the zipper of his coat, turned to head for the door.  He was about to bid Saïx goodnight and leave when he was interrupted.

“Wait…”

He turned to find Saïx looking at him with an expression Axel hadn’t seen in a long time.  It was subtle, but it was almost like a face he used to make as a human. Axel couldn’t describe it, but was shocked to see it now.  As quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and Saïx’s face reverted to its default state.

“What is it?”

Several seconds of deafening silence passed before Saïx returned his gaze to the moon.  “Never mind.”

Unconvinced, Axel closed in on his old friend.  “Isa…”

The sound of his human name sent a visible, rippling wave of shivers through Saïx’s body.  Axel could plainly see the chill running from his neck down his spine. He pitied the man, hating to watch him try so hard to suppress the distant echoes of his lost feelings and troublesome memories, only for his efforts to falter in his exhaustion.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Saïx didn’t answer him but didn’t have to.  Axel tossed his coat to the ground again, taking a seat on the bed and inviting his friend to join him.  It took a few seconds of silent convincing, but Saïx eventually climbed down from the window sill in surrender and crawled into bed beside him, untying his hair along the way.  Axel’s breaths stopped at the dazzling sight of his blue locks billowing gracefully as they fell into their resting place over his back and shoulders.

Without time to recover, Axel stammered out his only stipulation, clearing his throat in a nervous manner.  “Uh… Okay. One condition. You have to lie down, close your eyes, and _try_ to sleep.”

Saïx pondered the request for a moment before finally deciding to yield.  “Agreed. Do I get a reward if I actually manage to fall asleep?”

“Yes.  You get the reward of sleep.”

Saïx continued to stare at Axel, his eyes slowly shifting from their usual haunting glare to a piercing smolder.  Axel knew what he wanted and shared in his desires, but it was too fun toying with the man. With a light chuckle, Axel raised the stakes on his end.  “Any additional prizes will depend on how early you decide to drag me out of bed.”

“Who said I’d be dragging you _out_ of bed?”

Maintaining his poker face, Axel threw the blankets over them both and fell onto the pillow with an exaggerated yawn.  “Goodnight, Isa.”

“Sweet dreams, Lea.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxas has a rough start to his second day, but it quickly turns around when he meets some more of his comrades. Axel and Saïx begin to feel the stress of ‘parenting.’

“Roxas!  It’s time to wake up!”

Axel knocked loudly on the door, hoping Roxas wouldn’t be frightened by the sound.  He had warned the boy the previous night during his bedtime routine that he and Saïx would be knocking in the morning, but he still couldn’t always tell whether or not Roxas understood him.  After a few seconds with no answer, he knocked again, only receiving more silence in return.

“Think he’s still asleep?”

“Hmm.  Open the door.  Let’s make sure he hasn’t fallen out of bed.”

Axel opened the door to find Roxas still in bed, his sheets having been kicked to the floor.  His eyes were closed, but he was not resting peacefully. His body was writhing and covered in sweat, and his chest was heaving with his labored, wheezing breaths.

“Whoa, Roxas, are you alright?”  Axel rushed to the bed, closely followed by Saïx.  He sat on the edge of the mattress, gently nudging Roxas’ shoulder with concern on his face.

“What should we do?” he asked his companion with a worried tone.  Saïx peered closely at Roxas’ face, etched with pain and anxiety. “Wake him.”

Axel shook Roxas a little more vigorously, trying desperately to rouse him to no avail.  “Roxas… hey… wake up, buddy…”

Roxas’ breaths accelerated rapidly, pulling his entire torso along with them.  Axel tried everything short of hitting the kid, but nothing would lift Roxas out of his slumber.

“I’ll get Vexen,” Saïx whispered urgently, growing increasingly alarmed by the boy’s condition.  Before he could move, Roxas emitted a loud, hoarse gasp, startling both Saïx and Axel.

“Whoa!”

His eyes sprang open and he shot upright.  At the sight of his comrades, he frantically scooted away, seemingly terrified of them.  Axel caught him just before he went over the edge of the mattress, and Roxas struggled and flailed in his clutches.  Axel tightened his grasp the harder Roxas fought to escape, determined to end this sudden fit of terror before he hurt himself.

“Roxas, calm down…” Axel tried to console him, having little success. “It’s okay, it was just a dream…”

Roxas continued to panic and squirm, panting heavily and with tears streaming down his cheeks.  Axel glanced over at Saïx, begging for direction, to which Saïx only shrugged. Axel sighed at him, returning his attention to the frightened child in his arms.

“Roxas, it’s me, Axel!” he reminded him in a stern voice. “Got it memorized?”

At the sound of Axel’s name, all of Roxas’ fighting and writhing ceased.  The child’s eyes widened as he recognized his caretaker, and after a few tense moments of silence, the boy began to cry.  He pulled his knees to his chest and dropped his head, his body trembling with his soft, raspy sobs. Axel and Saïx froze, shocked at the sight of such a young Nobody experiencing a seemingly genuine emotional reaction.

“Do something, Axel,” Saïx instructed urgently.  “Calm him down.”

“How?”

“I don’t know… Hold him?  Talk to him? Anything!”

Having never felt more like a clueless parent in his life, Axel decided to just improvise. “Hey, come here, buddy…” Axel wrapped his arms around the quivering child and held him in a tight embrace, gently patting his head. “It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Roxas was hyperventilating, and his tears were soaking the leather of Axel’s coat, but he didn’t flinch at his touch, and that was a start.

“You gotta breathe slower, Roxas, or you’re gonna get dizzy.”  Axel drew the boy’s head close, leaning him against his chest. After a few moments, Roxas matched the rhythm of Axel’s breathing, leveling to a more steady and reasonable pace.  At last, his shivering body began to relax. “There we go, that’s better.”

Impressed with Axel’s performance, Saïx cautiously approached the pair, kneeling beside the bed to peek at Roxas’ face.  His eyes were still wide with fear and staring intently at the floor. When Axel tried to pull away, Roxas clasped his coat tightly and refused to let him go.

“Roxas,” Saïx spoke softly, wiping the tears from the child’s cheeks.  “You are in no danger. The images you saw were created by your own mind.  They weren’t real. See how you are now in your room and they are gone? You are safe.”

Roxas took an apprehensive look around, scanning the environment as if to confirm Saïx’s claims.  It was a promising sign — he had clearly understood what Saïx said. Saïx extended a hand to pull him away while Axel tried to coax Roxas off of him, but the child only clung more tightly to Axel’s coat, unwilling to be separated from him for an instant.

“Come now, Roxas, it’s time to let go of him.”

Roxas recoiled from Saïx and maintained a fierce grip on Axel’s coat.  Axel smiled, shaking his head. “It’s okay, buddy. We can cuddle more later.  If you come downstairs with us, I’ll give you some orange juice.”

Saïx scoffed at Axel’s words, rising from the floor and crossing his arms.  “Really, Axel? More sugar? You’re going to kill him.”

Axel took Roxas’ hand and hopped off the bed.  “You know, Roxas, I think Saïx needs a hug.”

Saïx shot him a menacing glare, backing away.  “Axel, don’t you dare…”

Axel appealed to Saïx with a mischievous grin, slowly stepping toward him.  “Come on, Saïx, if you want him to like you, you gotta show him your soft side.”

“I’m warning you, Axel—!”

“...Axel.”

All activity halted at the sound of an unfamiliar voice.  Axel and Saïx froze again, their breaths catching in their throats and staring dumbstruck at Roxas.

“What?  What did you say?” Axel prompted Roxas to repeat himself, just to confirm that they’d heard correctly.

“Axel.”

Axel’s face lit up and he applauded with delight.  “Yes! That’s right, Roxas! I’m Axel! Do you remember his name?”

Axel gestured toward Saïx, who remained in place with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face.  Roxas stared at him in silence for several seconds, not speaking another word. Axel cringed for Saïx’s sake, but shrugged his shoulders and gave Roxas a congratulatory pat on the back.  “Well, Axel’s a start! Your first word! Great job, buddy! Now let’s get ready and go downstairs, okay? It’s _morning_ .  You remember what you’re supposed to do when it’s _morning_?”

Roxas slid off the bed and headed for his closet, where he pulled out his coat and other clothing articles.  After making sure he had all the pieces he needed, he shut himself in the bathroom. Axel silently prayed he wouldn’t be needing any help in there again.

Saïx had returned to pacing, stroking his chin, deep in thought.  Axel stepped nearer to him, softening his voice as he spoke.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I was just playing…”

“Lea, what was that?”

Axel paused, unsure at first what Saïx was referring to.  He turned his head, thinking, his eyes fixed on the sheet that had fallen onto the floor.  “That looked like a nightmare to me.”

“Yes, of course it was.  But after that.”

“Oh, you mean the crying?  I mean, yeah, he’s a baby. Babies cry…”

“Nobodies don’t.”

“Come on, Isa, you know that isn’t true.  I’ve cried a bunch since becoming a Nobody.  And you have, too.”

Saïx narrowed his eyes, moving to Roxas’ bed and picking up the sheet from the floor.  As he laid it over the mattress, tucking in the sides and tidying the blankets and pillows, he gave some thought to his friend’s recollections.  Axel was right. Laughing and crying were not out of their grasp as Nobodies, but they were merely performances, artificial in every way. Nobodies _chose_ to laugh and cry, unlike humans who did so as a result of being overwhelmed by emotion.  Roxas was so young — could he really have mastered the act of crying already?

Axel laid a hand on Saix’s shoulder, “Look, Isa, Roxas is just a baby.  He’s having to absorb a whole lot in a short amount of time and it’s stressful.  Plus, this is the Keyblade Wielder’s Nobody. Who knows what kind of hell that kid’s been through?  Those memories could be rushing into Roxas’ head in droves. So is it really so far fetched to believe he had a genuine nightmare, so scary that it made him cry?”

After a long pause, Saïx heaved a sigh of defeat.  “Perhaps not. I still want him examined. It’s our job to keep him safe and in good health until he can care for himself.  I want all our bases covered.”

Axel chuckled, shaking his head.  “Gosh, you really _are_ a mom.  We can take him to the lab after he eats something, okay?  Don’t worry.”

“I won’t be joining you for breakfast, I have to deliver the mission briefings.  I’ll catch up with you afterward.”

“Isa, we talked about this…”

“Drop it, Lea.  I’ll eat later. You have my word.”

Axel sighed.  Saïx’s hypocrisy could be infuriating at times, since he showed such concern for Roxas’ health, and in fact the health of every other member in the Organization, yet seemed to have no issue risking his own.  The man got plenty of exercise, but rarely slept and often found excuses not to eat, despite Axel’s insistence that he take care of himself. However, Axel understood the psychological reasoning behind Saïx’s behavior.  After losing his heart, Saïx began to question the point of caring for a body that only amounted to an empty husk. There was no joy in eating or sleeping, so why bother? Axel could both agree and disagree. He employed a similar reasoning to justify his frequent over-indulgence.  But he could admit that he still enjoyed things, where Saïx insisted that he enjoyed nothing.

“I’ve preparations to make.  Feed him, then show him around the castle.  With any luck, he might learn some more words.”

“Wait, Isa…”

Saïx had turned to leave the room, but paused at Axel’s interruption, facing him with a questioning look.  Axel hesitated before finishing his thought.

“Don’t take it personally.  Roxas is one day old. He’s still processing everything and it’s just taking some time to figure you out.  It doesn’t mean anything.” Axel smiled warmly at his old friend. “You’re just mysterious like that.”

Saïx only stared blankly as usual, “I haven’t the capacity to care whether or not Roxas likes me.  My duty is to ensure that he learns our ways and that _you_ don’t kill him.”

Saïx headed for the door again, but stopped to add one last caveat.  “However,” Saïx whispered, his cold expression warming slightly. “I appreciate the sentiment.  See you later, Lea.”

* * *

Roxas’ enormously round eyes darted in every direction as he was led through the halls of the castle.  Tugging him gently by the wrist, Axel brought him into the kitchen where two of their largest comrades hovered over the stove.  The smell of bacon grease wafted through the air and the sound of sizzling and crackling echoed off the room’s bare walls.

“Aha!  If it isn’t young Roxas!  Good morning to you!”

Roxas froze, appearing to struggle processing the sudden overload of sensory information.  His head whipped around as he reacted to the sound of the booming voice that greeted him, the overwhelming smell of the food cooking, and the sudden rumble in his stomach.  Axel patted the kid on the back to grab his attention and introduced him to the oversized men at the stove. “Roxas, this is Xaldin, and that’s Lexaeus. Got it memorized?”

Roxas stared blankly at the two men.  Xaldin raised an eyebrow and approached him, towering over the kid.  Roxas flinched and slid behind Axel to hide. Axel sighed with his arms crossed, “Now, Roxas, that’s not polite.  Say hello.”

The men waited for Roxas to respond, but he remained paralyzed in his hiding place, not saying a word.  Xaldin knelt in front of him, inspecting the boy closely with narrowed eyes. “He still won’t speak?”

“He can say my name.  And that’s about it.”

“Hmph,” Xaldin shrugged, then rose to his feet, heading back toward the stove.  “Lexaeus rarely speaks either. It’s no matter.”

Lexaeus scoffed at him, “Words are malleable.  Intentions can be misconstrued.” He eyed Xaldin, perfectly deadpan.  “And, people talk too much.”

Xaldin smirked at his stoic friend, piling food from the skillet onto a plate and handing it to him.  Lexaeus thanked him with only a silent nod before leaving the kitchen. Axel, being a terrible cook and too tired to put in any more than minimal effort, endeavored to obey Saïx for once and prepare something bland and simple for Roxas.  Although there was no evidence to suggest that feeding Roxas ice cream had caused any of his odd behavior or his nightmare, he still couldn’t shake the odd sense of guilt that tugged at his chest. He was fiddling with a packet of instant oatmeal when Xaldin made an observation in a disapproving tone.

“What is that slop you’re feeding him?  Oatmeal?” Xaldin clicked his tongue and shook his head.  “He’s such a skinny child, Axel. He needs more protein! How about I cook him a hearty breakfast instead?”

Axel set the bowl in front of Roxas along with a spoon.  It was too early to explain Roxas’ dietary needs to him. “Thanks, Xaldin, but we’re not trying to bulk him up.”

Xaldin shrugged again, “Suit yourself.  I will leave some here on the stove. He should at least try it.  Can’t survive on processed mush forever.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'll see you later, man.”

Xaldin fixed a plate for himself and left the kitchen to catch up with Lexaeus.  Axel turned to Roxas, who had been staring vacantly at his bowl for the duration of their conversation.  Axel didn’t blame the kid — he didn’t like oatmeal either.

“Okay, Roxas, eat up or Saïx will make you drink one of his meal-replacement shakes.”  He leaned in, whispering. “Trust me, you don’t want that.”

Roxas looked at Axel as if seeking instructions, but Axel decided to wait and see if he’d figure it out.  To his surprise, Roxas picked up the spoon and stuck it into the oatmeal, scooping out a reasonably-sized bite and putting it in his mouth.

“Wow, I’m impressed, Roxas!” Axel clapped excitedly.  “I didn’t even have to teach you how to do that!”

Roxas made no outward reaction to the food or Axel’s enthusiastic praises.  He ate in silence, appearing to neither like nor dislike his breakfast. Axel’s only job for now was to make sure Roxas didn’t choke, and he would have been shocked if Roxas managed to react poorly to something as harmless as oatmeal.  But, after a few moments, he suspected that Roxas was likely as bored as he was, and decided to liven up this meal a bit, if only as an excuse to indulge in Xaldin’s superb cooking himself. He hopped out of his seat and snuck over to the stove, filling a plate with the delicious-smelling contents of the skillet and bringing it back to the table.  He nudged the plate to Roxas, eagerly anticipating the child’s reaction to this new, mouth-watering breakfast in front of him.

“Xaldin’s too good a cook for you to pass this up.  I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Roxas examined the plate curiously.  Unlike the bowl of oatmeal, which was completely homogeneous in color and texture, the items on the plate were colorful and visually appealing.  Just as Axel had predicted, the variety enticed Roxas, and the kid cautiously plucked out a strip of bacon and nibbled on the end of it. His facial expression remained neutral and empty, but he finished the bacon quickly and soon reached for more.  He never returned to the bowl of oatmeal after having tried Xaldin’s breakfast, sampling one of every item on the plate, never appearing to dislike any of it. Axel, absentmindedly munching on some of the leftovers, couldn’t wait to tell Xaldin how well-received the meal was for their new comrade.  He giggled at Roxas, who was carefully sipping from a glass of orange juice Axel had poured for him. “Well! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you enjoyed that. Make friends with Xaldin and he’ll cook for you every day. That ought to put some meat on your bones!”

After awhile, Roxas had finished eating and was staring blankly into the distance.  Axel paid him no mind as he picked at the remaining bits of food on the plate, but soon took notice of Roxas’ face, glancing at Axel just long enough to flash a peculiar expression.  It was quick, but Axel was sure he saw the corners of his mouth widen and his eyes gleam slightly.

“Hey… did you just smile?”

Roxas blinked, saying nothing, but the sudden flash of his new expression reappeared.  It was almost certainly Roxas’ first attempt at a smile. Axel couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“That’s cute.  Do it again.”

Roxas practiced smiling for a while before his eyes began to wander again.  His mind seemed to wander along with them as he cast his gaze off into the void once more.  Axel chuckled, puzzled by the behavior but finding it endearing all the same. “Heh… you look like you’re lost in thought.  What’s on your mind, buddy?”

Roxas turned to face him directly.  “Axel.”

Axel beamed at him, thrilled that Roxas had taken a liking to his unwitting caretaker.  The Organization had searched for their Number XIII for years before Roxas was born. As was their role, Axel and Saïx effectively raised each potential candidate, only for every one of them to fall short of the demands of the Organization.  When they didn’t make the cut, Xemnas had to do away with them. Axel had never grown attached to any of the newborns before, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit of a sting whenever one of them was turned into a Dusk. It was an unfortunate fate which befell Nobodies who simply weren’t strong-willed enough to retain their human forms.  Now, Axel couldn’t help but feel a bit elated in Roxas’ presence, almost drawn to him in a way. Was this ‘getting attached?’ He wasn’t sure, but he anticipated — and hoped — that this Nobody would be the Number XIII Xemnas had been searching for. Axel was growing quite fond of Roxas, and if it meant that he would get to stay, he was determined to make this kid the strongest comrade Organization XIII had ever seen.

“That’s right.  I’m Axel. Got it memorized?”

* * *

Axel supposed that poor Roxas had no idea what was going on when all of his comrades huddled around him, curiously watching him like a caged animal in a zoo.  The child clung tightly to Axel’s sleeve, keeping a fair distance from the giggling men circling the pair. There was laughter and merriment at the boy’s expense; light hearted jokes about Roxas’ stature would likely become routine.  Roxas stared idly into the surface of the coffee table, either not understanding the words or simply not caring.

Luxord, seated authoritatively on the edge of a lounge chair at his right, nodded to Axel, and all at once the witticism and innuendo ceased.  A hush fell over the group as all eyes landed on Roxas. Axel patted the child’s back, beckoning him.

“Okay, Roxas, let’s show everyone your first word.  Go on, tell them my name.”

The men waited, unblinking, for Roxas to speak.  Roxas said nothing, his expressionless face turned up to Axel, laced with confusion.  Axel cleared his throat uncomfortably, appealing to the child a second time.

“Uh, Roxas, buddy… do you remember my name?”

The air was heavy with anticipation.  There was a squeak of leather on leather as the men scooted forward in their seats.  Roxas again was silent. Xigbar had seen enough.

“Well, nothing to see here, fellas!”

“Shh, quiet!  He’ll say it.” Axel clasped his shoulder, his own brow furrowing with befuddlement at Roxas’ hesitation.  “Roxas, you remember who I am, right? What is my name?”

When Roxas remained mute, Axel became exasperated.  He leaned in, drawing the child’s focus, as if the two of them were the only men in the room.

“Got it memorized?”  He whispered on a hunch that his words might trigger a reaction.  To his delight, Roxas’ eyes widened and he uttered one word in response.

“...Axel.”

There was a collective outburst from the group and Roxas recoiled behind Axel with fright.  Demyx jumped out of his seat, plunging his fists into the air and cheering while the others groaned with disappointment.  Luxord, laughing quietly and shaking his head, gestured to the young musician prancing at his side.

“Demyx wins the pot!”

“Yes!  Take _that_ , suckers!”

“Aw man!  Are we really sure one word is enough?”  Xigbar whined, unamused by Demyx’s allegedly premature celebrations.

Luxord chuckled, shrugging.  “The pitch was unmistakable, Xigbar.  Roxas is _post_ -pubescent.”

“But he’s so scrawny!” Xigbar argued incredulously.  “He could still be—”

“The judges have spoken!” Demyx interrupted, straightening his posture and raising a finger, as if preparing to make an acceptance speech.  “And let this be a lesson for you: short men are still _men_!  Now pay up, Xiggy!”

Axel couldn’t help but laugh at their banter.  Demyx had never expressed any sensitivity over his height, but it was both fascinating and endearing that he felt he had an obligation toward his fellow shorter comrade.  In reality, Roxas was still physically only fourteen or fifteen at the most, and it would be years before they could truly consider him post-pubescent, but seeing Demyx gloat over his technical victory was amusing nonetheless.

Xigbar was digging in his pockets and grumbling when their friendly competition was interrupted by the sound of a very deep, haunting growl.

“Axel.”

Demyx’s jaw dropped, startled by the sudden change in register.  “Whoa, kid’s hormones don’t waste any time…”

They turned to see Saïx standing behind them with his arms crossed disapprovingly.  Every spine straightened and all breathing halted. “Axel, what nonsense is this?”

Axel averted his eyes, clearing his throat scratching his head with a sheepish look.  “The, uh… the guys were betting on whether or not Roxas had hit puberty.”

Saïx glared at him, “What a childish game.” He shifted his piercing glower to the rest of the group, equally irritated by their immature behavior.  “Don’t you all have work to do?”

The men scattered, most of them disappearing into dark corridors as quickly as they could.  Demyx, unfazed by Saïx’s scolding, remained on the sofa, plucking confidently at his sitar. Roxas stood nearby, staring at him as he strummed the strings.  Saïx turned back to Axel, his sour expression unmoving. “Did he tolerate his breakfast?”

“Seemed like it,” Axel called over his shoulder to the child.  “Roxas learned to use a spoon today, didn’t you, Roxas?”

“Axel.”

Axel grinned, turning back to Saïx.  “He didn’t even need my help. He didn’t finish the oatmeal, though.  He liked Xaldin’s food better.”  
“Xaldin?” Saïx’s eyebrows raised.  He sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers as he questioned Axel in an exasperated tone. “Axel, what did you give him this time?”

“Xaldin _insisted_ Roxas try some of his breakfast,” Axel counted on his fingers as he listed the items Roxas had sampled.  “He ate some eggs and bacon and sausage…”

Saïx raised a hand to silence him, wincing slightly.  “Ugh, stop. You’re making me sick.”

“What?  Xaldin’s the best cook in this castle!”

“That stuff used to be animals, you know.  It’s all just warm carcasses. Nauseating.”

Axel rolled his eyes, giggling at Saïx’s discomfort.  “You will never ruin bacon for me, Isa.”

Roxas was sitting on the sofa beside Demyx, watching him intently.  The musician demonstrated several playing techniques before setting the instrument in Roxas’ lap and encouraging him to try it himself.  Axel was stunned as he watched Roxas timidly pluck the strings at Demyx’s instruction. He had never let anyone else touch his sitar before.

“Well, would you look at that.  Free babysitting,” Axel nudged Saïx with his elbow and a mischievous grin.  “Now’s our chance.”

“Hush, Lea.”

Demyx was now performing a song for Roxas, strumming loudly and singing off-key.  Roxas didn’t take his eyes off of him, his expression lifting as he listened to the new sounds.  Axel soon realized that Roxas had never heard music before, and Demyx’s casual noodling was the boy’s first exposure to the fine arts.  He wasn’t sure whether he should be thrilled for Roxas or feel sorry for him.

“Aw, he likes music.  How cute.”

Saïx scoffed, muttering under his breath.  “If you want to call that music…”

Without missing a beat, Demyx paused the show to address Saïx’s criticism.  “Rude!”

Demyx resumed his song in tempo, and Saïx led Axel a few steps away to deliver some ominous news in a hushed whisper.  “Xemnas sent me an urgent message. He has new information regarding the mission at Castle Oblivion, highly classified.  He will be summoning us later this afternoon, along with the rest of the team.”

“Any idea what it’s about?”

“None.  He can be quite secretive when he wants to be.”

Axel stroked his chin, theorizing in his mind.  There were a number of projects to be set in motion at their research facility in Castle Oblivion, but Axel was no scientist, and he wondered what would possess their leader to add him to the team.  It all seemed like it would be fairly routine, boring grunt work, making it rather unusual for Xemnas to suddenly become so mysterious about it.

“What will we do with Roxas?  If we’re both in a meeting…”

Saïx nodded in Demyx’s direction.  “Like you said, free babysitting.”

Demyx continued to play his sitar and sing loudly, nudging Roxas occasionally and urging him to join.  Roxas only stared at him, never parting his lips. With a sigh, Saïx slowly made his way toward the sofa to retrieve the child.  “We’d better get him examined before the meeting.”

“Isa, look at him.  He’s perfectly healthy.”

Saïx returned Axel’s argument with only a frighteningly sinister glare, having long since lost his patience with the man.  Axel recoiled, his hands raised in surrender. “Jeez, don’t do that,” Axel moved away from him and approached the duo on the sofa.  “Okay, Roxas, it’s time to go! You can play with Demyx later.”

Demyx waved as Axel led Roxas out of the Grey Area by the hand.  “Bye, Roxas!”

* * *

Roxas was surprisingly cooperative during his examination.  Over the course of nearly two hours, Vexen left no stone unturned as he inspected every nook and cranny of the boy’s body, taking care to be as thorough as possible.  He shuffled through a collection of instruments, shining lights into Roxas’ eyes and ears, peering down his throat, and even scanning his brain. Saïx had to hold him still once or twice when his anxious fidgeting hindered Vexen’s efforts, but to his relief, Roxas did not panic as Saïx suspected he might.  When the scientist was finished recording the last few measurements of Roxas’ vitals, he threw up his hands in defeat.

“I can’t find a thing wrong with him, Saïx.”

Saïx heaved a sigh, seeming almost disappointed by the results.  “I suspected as much.”

“I _insisted_ as much!”  Axel shouted from across the room, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed.

Vexen flipped through his notes, shaking his head.  “He’s small, but he’s due for a growth spurt. He’ll fill out that coat in no time.”

“And the nightmares?  The emotional displays?”

Vexen shrugged.  “Unusual, but not dangerous.  Given his unique origins, I’d say this is to be expected for a newborn like him.”

“Do you think he will be mission-ready by day seven, as is typical?  Or is he delayed?”

“I really don’t see any reason why he couldn’t work by that point.  If he hasn’t changed at all in a couple of days, then I might be worried, but right now, he seems fine.”

Axel sauntered to the examination table with a smug expression, leering at Saïx all the way.  “I’m just going to add another tally to my ‘I told you so’ list.”

Saïx shot him a menacing side-eye before returning his attention to Vexen, who continued to skim through the information on his clipboard.

“He’s a growing boy, so feed him well.  Make sure he gets plenty of exercise and adequate rest.  Keep him hydrated, bathe him daily, the usual. He really doesn’t require any special care.”

Satisfied, Saïx nodded his approval.  “Very well,” he turned to his companion.  “Axel, you’re taking him to Twilight Town tomorrow.”

Axel smiled and clapped Roxas on the back in excitement.  “Whoo! Roxas, we’re gonna have so much fun there!”

“And Saïx,” Vexen spoke cautiously but with a reassuring tone.  “I understand Xemnas is watching your every move. But I see no cause for alarm.  He’s a normal, healthy adolescent boy. You can relax.”

In a shocking display of relief and gratitude, Saïx’s body visibly settled into place.  The collapse was so noticeable that one could only pity the man for the tension he carried around with him every day.  “Thank you, Vexen. Come, Roxas. We’re going to visit Demyx.”

Roxas slid down from the table and was being led to the door when Axel remembered something and turned back to the scientist.  “Vexen, I almost forgot. Do you have any information on what this meeting is about?”

Vexen slumped, shaking his head.  “I had hoped the two of you would know.”

“We shall find out soon enough,” Saïx interjected.  “Axel, our time is scarce.”

They left the lab and meandered down the hall toward the staircase, letting Roxas wander ahead for a moment.  Saïx took the opportunity to halt their trek, taking his comrade by the arm.

“Axel,” he hissed, his anger clouded by an anxiety that only Axel could see, having been so intimately acquainted with that face that he could read it like a book.  Axel closed in on him, prompting Saïx to drop his guard and plead with the man. “This isn’t a game. While you’re having your fun, I’m trying to ensure that Roxas is prepared for his role in serving the Organization.  His health and safety are crucial, and Xemnas will have our heads if anything happens to him.”

“Isa,” Axel gingerly laid his hands on his companion’s shoulders.  “It doesn’t have to be so serious all the time.”

“It doesn’t have to all be a joke either, Lea.”

“It’s not a joke.  I know how important our mission is.  That doesn’t mean we can’t make it fun.”

Saïx brushed Axel’s hands off of him and took off to catch up to Roxas, who had been standing motionless in place, waiting for his two caretakers to follow him.  Axel caught Saïx by the wrist before he’d made any headway.

“What’s this really about, Isa?”

Saïx did not turn back to look at him.  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Uh huh.  You’ve been off since Roxas showed up.  Come on, just talk to me.”

“About what?”

“About your _feelings_.”

Saïx rolled his eyes with another sigh, jerking his arm from Axel’s grip and throwing his guard back up.  “We’ll be late to the meeting if we don’t hurry. Let’s go.”

Setting aside this conflict for now, they resumed their journey back up the stairs and toward Demyx’s quarters.  Upon arrival, Axel knocked on the door and was quickly greeted by the young musician on the other side. Demyx’s smile widened when he saw Roxas, and in a friendly gesture of welcome he threw an arm around his shoulders and guided the boy inside.

“Roxas!  What’s up, man?!”

Saïx wasted no time in reciting his instructions for Roxas’ care.  “Demyx, you will supervise Roxas until we return from the meeting.”

“I’ll take good care of him,” Demyx assured them, playfully noogying the kid.  “We’re gonna have fun, aren’t we Roxas?”

“No substance abuse, no junk food, no horseplay, no leaving the castle—”

Axel stepped in and clasped his fingers over Saïx’s shoulder.  “Cripes, Saix, we’ll be gone for what, an hour? Give him a break.”

Demyx nodded enthusiastically in agreement.  “Yeah, man, Luxord’s gonna come over and we’re gonna play cards.  That’s all! No debauchery on my watch!”

Saïx narrowed his eyes skeptically, but after a beat he relented.  “Very well. We will return shortly.”

“Say goodbye, Roxas!”  Demyx was attempting to get Roxas to wave, to no avail.  Axel and Saïx left the room, and the very instant the door was closed, Axel intercepted Saïx and pinned him against the wall, eliciting a gasp of surprise from his unsuspecting comrade.  Saïx put forth no resistance as Axel began to sensually grind into him, playfully nibbling at his neck. His breaths grew shallow and rapid and he slid his fingers around Axel’s back to pull him closer.  Axel, with no thought given to whether or not they’d be seen, lowered the zipper of Saïx’s coat, just an inch or two. Only enough to get his attention and communicate his desires. He gripped the man’s jaw and kissed him with lustful impatience, and Saïx eagerly leaned into it, his knees buckling in surrender.  When he could stand it no longer, Axel broke the kiss to whisper into his ear.

“You wanna squeeze one in before we go?”

Saïx was quick to respond, breathless and flustered.  “Yes. But,” he pressed his palm to Axel’s chest and pushed him back, holding him at arm’s length. “We haven’t the time.  Xemnas is waiting.”

Axel chuckled at the man’s teasing. “They’re not gonna start without us.”

“Behave yourself,” Saïx readjusted his slightly disheveled appearance and returned the zipper on his coat to its original position. “You’re still on the clock.”

He appeared to compose himself for several seconds before strolling down the hall toward the Round Room, closely followed by Axel.  Saïx made a concerted effort not to look at Axel as they walked, but when they reached the tall white doors to the Room Where Nothing Gathers, Axel reached out and tightly grasped his fingers, preventing him from going inside.  Saïx whipped around and shot him a very particular look. Axel knew that look — a carryover from their human days. He didn’t have to say a word. His message was loud and clear, and Axel sent him off with an understanding grin, shuddering with anticipation as he entered the room for what would likely feel like the longest meeting of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! I came up with stuff! I was certain I had burned through all my ideas in chapter 1 and would never manage to finish this, but FINALLY the ideas came to me. Glad to see people liked the idea of Daddy Axel and Mommy Saix!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been slightly restructured. Chapters will no longer be confined to the "days" format and will instead cover whatever length of time the plot demands.

“A Nobody has been born in Castle Oblivion.  A young girl, similar in age to Roxas.”

A chorus of gasps rang through the room.  Xemnas paused after the announcement, resting lopsidedly in his tall throne and letting his eyes close in thought.  Axel, with other matters on his mind, had spent most of the meeting impatiently glaring at Saïx and shifting in his seat with anticipation.  Saïx, unfazed by the piercing gaze of his ravenous partner, had been staring at the ground, quietly absorbing their leader’s words when the surprise momentarily broke his concentration.  “Where did she come from?”

Xemnas’ eyes fluttered open with a glance to his No. VII.  “Her origins are a mystery, but she appears to have unique abilities.  She is not conscious, and there is a small squadron of Dusks there keeping watch over her.  They report that she is causing changes in the castle’s structure and appearance.”

“Even though she is unconscious?”

“Apparently so.  We must collect her immediately.”

Saïx pondered the Superior’s request, considering the burden of a second newborn to care for.  Roxas was rather high-maintenance, requiring far more attention than any of their previous assignments.  He and Axel would be run ragged trying to raise a second child alongside him. Would this new discovery be just as helpless and needy as Roxas?  Did Xemnas intend to include her among their ranks?

“There is more,” Xemnas continued in a near-whisper, as if his next words were to be a secret among the small collection of comrades leaning eagerly in his direction.  Eight heads rose to face him directly, curiosity gleaming in their eyes. “The Keyblade Hero is fast approaching the castle. We believe that she is drawing him in.”

The gasps were louder this time, echoing off the blinding white borders of the round room.  Xemnas allowed for yet another halt in the briefing, letting the perplexing report sink in. Saïx was speechless, unable to articulate his confusion.  Axel perched on the edge of his throne, his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the Superior.

“What?  The Keyblade Hero?”

Axel’s outburst opened the floor to his more introverted comrades, and Zexion voiced the question everyone had on their minds.  “But don’t we have his Nobody here? How can he…?”

Finishing the question was unnecessary, and Zexion let it trail off.  Xemnas offered a theory so airtight that it served as a plausible explanation for most everyone present.  “It would appear that some time after Sora turned his keyblade on himself, his heart was revived from the darkness and assumed his previous human form.  Meanwhile, Roxas has commandeered his body.”

Every spine straightened at Xemnas’ casual description of such harrowing events.  Of the many feelings that each of them could remember from their pasts as humans, one of the most potent was the pain of a keyblade in one’s chest, carving out their heart and discarding the empty shell that was left behind.  They weren’t all turned in this manner, but those that were shuddered at the thought of someone volunteering for such a torturous end to their existence.

“Did you say Sora turned his keyblade on himself?” Vexen gulped audibly, repulsed by the development.  “Why would he do that?”

“I’m afraid we require further investigation before we can answer that question.”

“So, in essence, Sora is coexisting alongside his Nobody?”

“It would seem so.”

Although it was an exceedingly rare occurrence, this phenomenon was not entirely unheard of.  The Organization’s membership included the only other man who had achieved the same feat, and he was seated on the highest throne, looking down upon his subordinates.  His booming voice hurried on with the briefing, finally acknowledging the time constraints of the situation. “That being said, we need to send people to Castle Oblivion immediately before the child awakens.  Saïx, I am afraid this week’s schedule will require some reworking.”

Saïx nodded.  “It’s not a problem, sir.”

The leader gestured to the three lowest-ranking members in the room.  “Marluxia, Larxene, Axel, I have added the three of you to this mission to supervise the child while we study her.  She could prove useful to us.”

Marluxia and Larxene nodded, but Axel was stroking his chin, deep in thought.  He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about the news regarding the keybearer gave him a slightly sour sensation in his stomach.  Sora was heading for Castle Oblivion, but Sora’s Nobody was safely upstairs with Demyx. It didn’t make sense, and for some reason it awoke in Axel a peculiar sense of foreboding.  Something in his abdomen squirmed, as if his intestines had decided to tie themselves in a knot. He would have to confront this keyblade hero and see the miracle for himself, but to his own bewilderment, Axel positively _loathed_ that idea.

His contemplation was interrupted by the sound of Marluxia’s voice.  “So, we have no idea whose Nobody she is?”

“Not as of yet,” Xemnas replied clinically.  “This is one of the puzzle pieces I’d like all of you to find.  Whoever her Somebody was, they must have been a very powerful individual.”

Axel was barely paying attention at this point.  If Sora was heading for Castle Oblivion, then he would surely stumble onto the Organization’s base of operations and interfere with their work.  What would happen if he discovered the existence of Roxas? What if the two were to come in contact? How did the newborn girl fit into all of this?  A shiver passed over his skin when he imagined the possibility of Roxas being lost. Maybe Sora knew that his body had been stolen by his Nobody and he’d come to reclaim it?  Somehow, Axel couldn’t bear the thought.

“Axel,” the Superior startled him from his wandering thoughts.  “Our keyblade wielder remains top priority. You may remain here for the week until Roxas has regained his independence, but should your immediate presence be required at Castle Oblivion, you could be called upon at a moment’s notice.”  He raised his eyes to the rest of the group. “The rest of you, make your preparations and be on your way by tomorrow morning. You are instructed to make contact with the girl as soon as possible. Evaluate her and investigate her powers.  Vexen, your project is underway?”

“Yes, sir.  I’m prepared to relocate to the new facility on your orders.”

“Then it is so ordered.  Are there any questions?”

He glanced around at each of his underlings, awaiting a response for several seconds and receiving none.  Satisfied, Xemnas offered a final nod to the group. “Dismissed.”

While the rest of the team hastily vanished into their dark corridors, Axel found himself still frozen in his seat, staring blankly at the floor.  Internally, he chided himself for getting worked up over the situation with Sora. Of course Roxas would be safe. He was nowhere near Castle Oblivion and would likely never be sent there.  Sora could storm the castle and cut down everyone in his path and he still wouldn’t find Roxas. And whoever this newborn girl was, Axel would make damn sure that she was no threat to their No. XIII.  If anything, his duty at Castle Oblivion would be to ensure that Marluxia and Larxene kept her on a tight leash.

The soft sound of a throat being cleared jolted Axel back to the present.  He blinked, not having realized that he wasn’t alone. Saïx was still waiting patiently in his throne, staring at him with an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Axel bit his lip.  Normally he could tell Saïx everything, yet in this moment he was compelled to hold back.  He shrugged it off and assumed a casual demeanor. “I bet Castle Oblivion will have ridiculously uncomfortable beds,” he lamented.  “I was just thinking about how sore my back will be.”

Saïx’s face remained skeptical.  Axel found he never really could lie to the man, and this moment was no exception.  Saïx could see right through him, but surprisingly, he didn’t pry. Instead, his mouth broke into a subtle grin.  “If you find the sleeping quarters inadequate, why not just return here at night?”

Axel chuckled, remembering the silent promise they made only an hour ago.  Saïx was giving him the look, and as soon as they made it out of the round room, he found the man leaning against the wall, waiting for Axel to advance on him again.  He obliged, gripping his jaw and kissing him passionately.

Despite his partner’s enthusiasm, Axel was distracted.  His thoughts could run in circles through his head for hours if he let them.  He could fixate on his concern for Roxas until the stress drove him mad. Try as he did to quiet the noise, he couldn’t let that nagging feeling go.  Where Saïx’s fingers closed around him in a desperate grasp, Axel’s dragged along his body in an apathetic caress. His movements were awkward and forced, and it didn’t take long for Saïx to notice.

“Lea, what’s the matter?” he asked impatiently.  “An hour ago, you were insatiable. What’s changed?”

“Sorry…” Axel didn’t look at him when he spoke.  “I’m a little distracted.”

He felt Saïx’s fingers cup his chin, gently nudging him until they could lock eyes.  “Please. Talk to me.”

Axel pulled away and headed down the hall, gesturing for his friend to join him.  They walked in silence for a few moments before Axel was able to articulate his discomfort.  “I’ve got a weird feeling about this Castle Oblivion mission.”

“What sort of weird feeling?”

“I don’t know, man…” he scratched his neck, struggling to arrange his thoughts into coherent sentences.  “I get this jittery feeling in my stomach and my chest starts to hurt. I hate it.”

Saïx cocked his head.  “You’re anxious. Something about the mission worries you?  Why?”

“Man, we don’t have the hearts to worry anyway,” Axel shrugged.  “I’m sure it’s indigestion.”

“It’s Roxas, isn’t it?  You are concerned about his connection to the events at Castle Oblivion?”

When Axel pursed his lips and refused to answer, Saïx didn't press him, instead attempting to ease his mind by sharing his own apprehension.  “I can admit some trepidation myself. I think it’s hasty for us to just rush in there, knowing what the keyblade hero is capable of.”

Axel became so lost in thought that he could no longer concentrate on walking.  He stopped in his tracks, staring into the void with a noticeably troubled expression.  “If he found Castle Oblivion, what’s to stop him from finding us here? Finding Roxas?”

Saïx clasped his sleeve, tugging him out of his sudden bout of panic and back to reality.  “He cannot access this place. The corridors of darkness are the only way.”

Axel’s motionless body seemed to shudder lightly, much to Saïx’s bafflement.  He’d never seen the man so distressed over anything before. Not since they’d lost their hearts.  It was rather odd, but Saïx found that he really did not enjoy seeing Axel so disturbed. Unsure of what else he could add, he restated with an insistent but reassuring tone.  “Roxas is perfectly safe here. Nothing is going to happen to him.”

The worries weren’t gone, but the panic had dissipated slightly.  Axel’s posture relaxed some and they began walking again with their fingers loosely linked together.  It wasn’t often that Saïx agreed to be so affectionate in public. He had always insisted that he was _out,_ not _open_ — that nobody else need know their business but the two of them.  But, Axel could appreciate the gesture now, small as it was. Saïx was trying to make him feel better, and he warmed slightly with gratitude for his friend.

“What do you make of the girl?”

Axel only shrugged in response.  “I don’t know.”

“She is a mystery.  I wonder if Xemnas plans to bring her here,” Saïx pondered aloud.  “We already have thirteen, but he seemed rather enthusiastic about the child.”

Axel had assumed that with the addition of a keyblade wielder in the thirteenth spot, there would be no need to add any more Nobodies to their rank.  Even he could admit some curiosity over what this child’s powers might entail to capture the eye of the Superior of the In-Between, but his stomach churned at the idea of her joining the Organization.

“You think he’d add a fourteenth member?”

“It seems silly.  But I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Xemnas was usually quite secretive about his agenda, only sharing what information was necessary to have his orders carried out properly.  Axel tried to remember if anything revealing had been said that might have stood out among the rest of the briefing, but of course their leader was too careful to let anything slip that he didn’t intend to say.  “How the heck are we gonna take care of _two_ babies at once?  Roxas is enough of a handful as it is!”

Saïx shrugged.  “We may not have to.  If Marluxia and Larxene are the first to make contact, then the child will bond with them.”

Axel wasn’t sure he supported such a plan.  Marluxia and Larxene were the last to join the Organization before Roxas, having been found by Xigbar.  Axel and Saïx were tasked with raising them as usual, but they adjusted quickly and required very little caretaking in their first week.  For the most part, they stuck together in the same way that Axel and Saïx did, figuring things out on their own and largely keeping to themselves.

“But have they ever done this before?  Xemnas said she has strange powers. She’s unconscious now, but who knows what she’s capable of when she wakes up?  She could be dangerous.”

“I suppose that may be why Xemnas wants to send you,” Saïx was contemplatively tugging at the fingers of his gloves as they approached his door.  “But Roxas is very attached to you. I don’t see how he will tolerate you taking an extended stay at Castle Oblivion.”

Axel leaned in, grinning.  “I guess that means _you’ll_ have to bond with him.”

Saïx snorted.  “That’ll be a first.”

At long last, they had reached Saïx’s room.  He rested against the wall, his arms crossed and wearing a smug expression.  “Well, I’ve kept you waiting. Let me make it up to you. You’ll feel better.”

In truth, Axel already felt better.  To know that Saïx genuinely wanted to cheer up his old friend put his mind at ease.  Perhaps their relationship was a complicated one without hearts. Maybe the emotions weren’t what they used to be.  But Axel took comfort in knowing that this part hadn’t changed. He could still melt beneath Saïx’s amorous gaze. He could still quiver with anticipation at his touch.  It eased his mind to know that this flavor of euphoria was not beyond their grasp.

“ _Now_ who’s insatiable?”

“Hmph,” Saïx smirked.  “I’m not entirely sure you deserve this.”

Axel closed in, leering at him from only inches away.  “I’m not entirely sure you care.”

Saïx pulled off his gloves.  “You have fifteen minutes, not one moment more.”

“I can fit at least three in fifteen minutes, _without_ messing up your hair.”

“I know,” Saïx opened the door and politely invited Axel inside with a welcoming bow of his head.  “Don’t leave any marks this time.”

* * *

Xemnas figured he should have gone to sleep hours ago.  The words in the reports were beginning to blur together.  The Dusks were so clinical in their descriptions. There was no nuance to their observations.  No instinct, no theories, no intuition. There were only cold, hard facts, and unfortunately, it wasn’t enough this time.  Supposing he had expected too much from creatures that barely passed as sentient beings, Xemnas conceded that he would simply have to be patient and await the reports of the Castle Oblivion team.  His eyes were sore from staring at the screen, scrolling through dozens of pages of technical jargon and outdated research. Some of the documents were cryptic and vague. Others were missing large fragments of information.  Still others were elaborately descriptive, yet only filled with useless fluff. The Superior pried his eyes from the blinding text, gently massaging away the dull ache in his forehead. The door to his office suddenly opened and Xigbar entered, uninvited and unannounced.

“Whatcha workin’ on there, big guy?”

Barely concealing his annoyance, Xemnas returned his eyes to his work, flipping through the reports on his desk.  “You will address me as ‘Lord Xemnas.’”

Xigbar snorted.  “Lighten up, man.  It’s only me.”

_“Precisely.”_

Shaking his head with a sigh, Xigbar crossed his arms, almost appearing to have taken offense to the Superior’s remark.  “What’s eatin’ you?”

“In this moment, you are.  I wish to be left alone.”

“Is this about the Castle Oblivion stuff?”

Xemnas ignored him, hoping that perhaps he’d lose interest and go away.  Unfortunately, his silence only seemed to intrigue Xigbar further. He could sense the man’s lips curling into a sly smile, could hear the satisfaction in his voice. 

“Uh huh… Looks like it’s really wearing you down,” Xigbar lowered his voice, feigning a hint of sympathy for his troubled comrade.  “You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Come on, Xemnas, it’ll make you feel better.”

His words were distracting.  The sound of his voice was grating.  His repugnant display of concern was wearing on his nerves.  Exasperated, Xemnas finally lifted his head to meet his eye. “What is it that I must do to be rid of your irksome presence?”

“Well, you could throw me out of here any time, but you haven’t.  There must be a reason for that.”

Xigbar might have been right about that — Xemnas was younger, larger, and stronger than he was and could easily have tossed him out with his own bare hands.  The man was trying his patience and he knew it.  The Superior asserted his dominance, rising from his chair and turning his back to file away the reports. His finely-honed composure never faltered for an instant.  He would not be intimidated by this man. He would not be backed into a corner. He would speak when he _chose_ to do so.  He took his time slipping papers into drawers, disregarding the eerie chill of Xigbar’s watchful eye on him.  If the man was to demand a place inside his head, if he truly wanted to hear his thoughts, he would wait until he was invited.

Unable to stall any longer, Xemnas turned to find that Xigbar hadn’t budged from his spot.  He leaned against the door frame, casual in his stance, perfectly comfortable with his status as someone that Xemnas couldn’t control.  Irritated by his smug grin, the Superior heaved a long sigh. “When I heard that a hero of the keyblade was interfering with our plans, I expected a formidable man — well-trained, highly skilled, brimming with wisdom, and with a pure heart of blinding light.”

There was a pause while Xigbar put it together in his mind.  “What— Oh. _Oh._ You were expecting _him_.”

“I sensed him.”

“You think he’s back?”

“No,” Xemnas replied sounding almost disappointed.  “Despite my intuition, the keyblade hero is nothing more than a callow child.  A _child_ restored the worlds we’d banished to darkness.  A _child_ has slain Ansem.  And that child is heading straight for us.”

Xigbar whistled with surprise, sauntering lazily toward the desk.  “Man, he’s gotta be a powerful kid to do all that.”

“Indeed,” Xemnas whispered, stroking his chin.  “But, I believe there is more to this than we can see.”

“What do you mean?”

He replayed the events in his mind.  They’d been watching the supposed keyblade hero for some time already, and when the reports came in that he’d turned his weapon on himself and released his heart to the darkness, Xemnas figured that was the end of him and considered closing the investigation.  He put it aside and left to greet the Organization’s newest recruit, barely able to contain his disbelief at the boy’s appearance. He had no sooner returned to the castle than he learned that, to his shock and bewilderment, his own Heartless had been cut down by the very same hero of the keyblade, inexplicably restored to his human shape.

“When he sacrificed himself and unwittingly gifted Roxas to us, I was certain that we had gained the upper hand.  Only one keyblade wielder left in all the worlds, and he belonged to us? It was too perfect.”

In that moment, he decided he had to see it for himself.  Xemnas returned to Hollow Bastion to test Sora’s power. He had to know just how he could come back and if he still possessed his power in whatever half-formed shape his bare heart might have taken.  He recalled quietly observing from the shadows as an unfamiliar young boy, too small for the keyblade he carried so proudly, stepped into the empty room where the Superior had prepared his ambush. Finally, he had him alone.  Much to his surprise and dismay, Sora hadn’t weakened in the slightest. Further, he bore no resemblance to the hollow shell he cast off into the arms of Organization XIII. The mystery was irresistible. Just who was this child, and how is it that the keyblade had chosen him?

“Then, when I first had a look at him… When I saw that the boy was _identical_ to him…”

“I gotta say, that freaked me out, too.”

Xemnas began to pace the floor, his face frowning in concentration.  “The keyblade hero’s power is borrowed. These events cannot be mere coincidence.  Sora has a connection to Ventus, and I intend to follow it all the way to its source.”

Xigbar tugged at the collar of his coat with an audible gulp.  “But like you said, he’s hungry for blood and headed right for Castle Oblivion.”

“The team I have sent there were chosen quite carefully.  They will neutralize the threat.”

“I sure hope so, or we might all end up like Ansem.”

His last words pierced into the uncomfortable silence, followed by a lingering, heavy pause.  Xemnas had abruptly halted his trek. Cringing, Xigbar fidgeted in place, dropping his gaze to the floor.  “Uh… sorry. Too soon?”

Xemnas tilted his head, pondering the question.  Did Nobodies possess the same instinct for self-preservation that humans did?  His first thought would have been ‘yes,’ but he could not explain how such a phenomenon could persist without an emotional context.  Nobodies do not experience fear or grief. They can neither be afraid of death, nor fathom the sense of loss after their departure. Nobodies do not exist, and in their absence, there is only emptiness.  What could they really lose by ‘dying,’ and therefore, what was there to preserve?

“I admit that it was disconcerting to learn that the child had defeated a being so powerful as Ansem.”

“You gonna miss the guy?”

“I have no attachment to him,” he remarked coldly.  “He was a fool, possessing that petulant boy and trying to turn him into a vessel.  He earned his fate.”

In the Superior’s eyes, Ansem was just another pawn in their Somebody’s little game of chess, and as far as he was concerned, the man was reckless and imprudent.  Xemnas’ other half had possessed all the fervent discipline of the overzealous researcher who had birthed the two of them, but none of the calculating patience that his Nobody could boast.  Perhaps the great _Seeker of Darkness_ was more trouble than he was worth.

“Hm,” Xigbar leaned into the desk, eager to press him for more gossip.  “So what about that girl out there? How is she gonna fit into all of this?”

The Superior had returned to his chair, fiddling with papers and pretending to work.  “We must first see what her powers entail.”

His unwelcome visitor broke into a mischievous smile.  “Sounds like things are gonna get interesting. It’s too bad I can’t go!”

Xemnas rolled his eyes in response.  “There is much to be done. Leave me to my work.”

“Oh alright, fine.  But hey,“ Xigbar turned, lowering his voice.  “Remember, we have a mission. Don’t lose sight of our ultimate goal.”

To anyone else, that last reminder would be interpreted as a friendly bit of encouragement.  A confidence boost. A supportive, inspirational slap on the back from one comrade to another.  But Xemnas knew better. Xemnas — and only Xemnas — knew the sinister meaning behind those words.  That final phrase was not a rallying cry between teammates. It was not designed to improve morale or lift the spirits.  However harmless they may have seemed, Xigbar’s last words to the Superior were a warning. But, Xemnas would not waver under the likes of him, and he made no outward reaction to the haunting threat other than to simply acknowledge him with his usual poise.

“I have not forgotten why we organized.”

With another grin, Xigbar finally exited the room, leaving Xemnas alone to reflect.  He was given one task to complete. One purpose. He was to build this Organization and fill it with the most worthy Nobodies he could find, and when the time was right, he would initiate the second phase of the plan.  Ansem had failed, and now it was up to _him_ to finish the job.

Still, a minuscule fragment of him hated this plan.  There was no guarantee that it would work. The first few experiments had been a success, but who could say whether or not the remaining ten would withstand the procedure?  Suppose this keyblade hero stepped in and put a stop to it all?

_Ah, yes… Sora…_

Perhaps they’d be better off.  As flat and guiltless as he was, Xemnas wondered whether he could justify collecting thirteen people and walking them all to their deaths.  Thirteen worthy vessels. Thirteen _sacrifices_.  Perhaps some interference from Sora would free them from such a deplorable contract.  After all, they were Nobodies. They would leave nothing behind but thin air. Their fates were sealed either way and there was no saving them, but perhaps they could at least meet their ends with purpose and on their own terms, rather than being slaughtered on a proverbial altar for a cause they didn’t believe in.

But he would look on that as a last resort.  There was no need to be hasty. Xemnas turned to look out the window, anticipating the appearance of his magnificent Kingdom Hearts.  The real one had rejected them, but this model of his own design would be the key to releasing them from this loathsome half-existence to which they’d been hopelessly damned.  To regain their own hearts would ensure that they couldn’t be forced to host another. They would reclaim their humanity and live according to their own desires. _This_ was the purpose Xemnas chose.  _This_ was his plan.  This project, his magnum opus, would be the long-awaited answer to their prayers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a long wait, but I finally was able to re-think this story and the writer's block has been dissipating! I was so restricted by trying to make every chapter one day that I was getting myself stuck trying to follow the "beginning of day to end of day and follow Roxas around for every second" format. I ended up writing an entire chapter and then throwing it out because I hated it. Spending some time away to brainstorm has really helped and I feel so much better about the story now. I hope that y'all will still like it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some fluff.
> 
> Please tip your dentists.

In any other instance, Demyx would have been annoyed at the idea of babysitting the newbie yet again.  Most of the little ones that came through were flat and boring — lacking enough sentience to be included among their number.  He resented that Saïx always hired him for such a demeaning task, insisting that it would teach him _responsibility_.  But this newbie was different from the others.  His comrades would describe the kid as blank, empty, or lifeless.  But Demyx knew better. Roxas was no zombie. He was a baby. Those eyes weren’t lifeless  — they were curious. They were absorbing their environment with the same awe and wonder one would expect of a child.  They were searching. They were learning. Everything was bright and new and maybe even frightening. Quite frankly, Demyx thought he was adorable.

The kid was smarter than he looked.  He could read, and he understood nearly every word that was said to him, even if he didn’t speak much.  They lounged on Demyx’s bed, his arm around Roxas’ shoulders and sharing a bag of potato chips while Luxord quizzed him on numbers using his cards.  “Okay, Roxas, what’s this one?”

Roxas closely examined the card Luxord held in front of him.  “Four.”

“And the suit?”

“Diamonds.”

“Excellent!” Luxord praised him enthusiastically before pulling another card from the deck.  “Alright, how about this one?”

“Nine… of clubs.”

Demyx ruffled his hair and rewarded him with a chip.  “You’re on a roll, buddy!”

“He learns quickly,” Luxord took a moment to shuffle the deck, fascinated by the way Roxas’ eyes wandered around the room as if they were following something that neither he nor Demyx could see.  He wondered to himself what the world looked like through the child’s point of view. To the two of them, this room had the same blinding white walls as the rest of the castle. The black sky outside the window never changed.  They had taken for granted the precious little color they encountered in their lives, only realizing how devoid they were when they saw how Roxas reacted to it. His face lit up at the sight of a yellow banana, a green toothbrush, a red pen — small things that no one else noticed, yet Roxas studied them intently with seemingly fresh eyes.  Where the world had become routine for the others, Roxas scanned his surroundings as if seeing it all for the first time.

With the cards sufficiently randomized, Luxord pulled one from the top of the stack and turned it to face the boy.  “This one’ll stump you for sure, Roxas. Who’s this?”

Instead of his usual speedy response, Roxas stared at the card for a long while, drawing concern from his comrades.  The expression on his face was shifting, but neither of them could read it. Demyx was about to nudge him when he spoke softly.

“Xemnas.”

They gasped.  “What? What did you say, Roxas?”

Roxas looked at them, repeating his answer.  “Xemnas.”

Luxord turned over the card to see for himself.  It was the king of spades. “I’m not sure I understand…”

“Oh, I see,” Demyx nodded, taking the card for a closer look.  “You think that looks like Xemnas? I mean, I don’t see it, but…”

He squinted at it for a moment.  The picture on the card was typical for a king of spades in any standard deck.  The image of the spade vaguely resembled the symbol which the Organization had claimed as a ‘logo’ of sorts, and was displayed prominently beside the visage of a bearded man with long hair, elaborately dressed and carrying two swords.  “Actually, yeah, I do see it now.”

He handed the card back to Luxord, who glanced at it once more before returning it to the deck.  “Well, we’ll come back to that one, then.”

What an interesting comparison Roxas had made, Luxord thought to himself.  Thirteen cards to thirteen comrades, and in many cases, the king was the highest ranking card in the deck.  Visual similarities notwithstanding, Luxord was impressed with the boy’s observation. If any man in the Organization were to wear such a crown, the Superior would be the most obvious choice.  He was their leader after all, and he possessed power beyond what any of them could comprehend. However, in any game of cards, even a king could be defeated. Luxord contemplated those instances wherein the ace outranked the king.  Thirteen cards to thirteen comrades. If Xemnas was the king in their deck of cards, then who was the ace? _Intriguing_ …

“Can you imagine Xemnas with a beard?” Demyx interrupted his thoughts, offering the bag of chips.

Luxord stroked his chin rather deliberately, smirking.  “I’m the only one allowed to have a beard in this Organization.”

They shared a laugh, loudly crunching a few chips before Demyx handed the bag back to Roxas.  Instead of eating any more, he stared at the graphic on the front of the package. The appearance was generic for a low-effort processed snack — a picture of the product made to look far more appealing than the actual food ever was.  The center featured a well-dressed photo of an ingredient to fool the purchaser into believing they were eating something natural. Scattered across the image were descriptive words in bold fonts meant to draw the eye. _Wavy.  Crispy.  Now with_ _REAL_ _potato._

Demyx reached over and pointed to one of the words toward the top of the bag, just beneath the brand name.  “What’s that word, Roxas?”

“Potato.”

“Good!” Demyx patted his head before reaching into the bag and distributing a handful of chips between them.  As he nibbled on his snack, Roxas turned the bag around and peered at a collection of lengthy words on the back.  Demyx leaned his head on his shoulder, squinting at the list and chuckling at the kid’s intense expression. _He’s so cute when he’s concentrating._ “Roxas, I can’t even read those.  You should start small, man.”

“Maybe we ought to feed him something a bit more nutritious,” Luxord suggested, absentmindedly fooling with his cards.  “Saïx and Axel are taking their _sweet time_.”

Demyx cringed, repulsed by the comment.  “Gross, don’t make me think about that. You’ll ruin my appetite.”

Luxord chuckled softly, fanning the cards in front of Roxas and gesturing for him to choose one.  “Well, when they get back, Saïx will have your head for feeding him junk food.”

“Pfft,” Demyx scoffed, glancing at the card Roxas chose before Luxord lost it in the deck.  It was the ten of hearts. “He’s so uptight. If anyone needs a bag of chips, it’s him.”

Luxord made a show of cutting the deck, spreading the cards on the bed in front of him, flipping them over and squaring them off once more.  “Saïx is strict, but he knows what he’s doing.”

He lifted the deck, tapped the front side of it a few times, then dropped the cards into his lap, leaving only one left in his hand.  Much to his delight, Roxas’ eyes widened with amazement at the card held in front of him, his ten of hearts. It was a special moment for Luxord, the act of performing a trick that would be his spectator’s first exposure to the illusion of magic.  The stunned looks on their faces, filled with wonder and disbelief, was a treat far sweeter than any confection in existence. He would never get enough of the gasps and squeals, the jaws on the floor and the eyes wide as dinner plates. Luxord reshuffled the deck and began to deal a game of Go Fish.

“I don’t know, man,” Demyx countered, watching as Roxas examined the hand he’d been dealt.  “Can you really trust a guy who won’t eat meat? Everything he eats is weird. It’s all gotta be _so healthy_.”

“You know, you’d benefit from a diet like that.”

“As if.”

Luxord broke into a hearty fit of laughter as he finished setting up the game.  Suspicious, Demyx raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

He was unable to answer right away, still in the throes and with his cheeks beginning to flush a faint shade of pink.  Finally, still breathless, smiling brilliantly and wiping his eyes, he explained himself. “You sounded like Xigbar just now.”

Demyx wrinkled his nose.  “Yuck. Anyway, give us all your sevens.”

“Go Fish.”

Luxord couldn’t stop watching Roxas as he began the next hand, thrilled by the sight of the boy enjoying the game so much.  His anticipation when he reached for the center stack was palpable, and there was something endearing about the way his expression lifted when he picked up a new card.  After a few rounds, Roxas claimed his first victory, and Luxord congratulated him warmly, setting a perfect example of good sportsmanship when conceding defeat.

It was when Luxord was teaching Roxas how to shake hands that Demyx realized the man had let him win.  Some of his plays were uncharacteristically hasty and lacking in foresight — unheard of for Luxord. Demyx grinned at his friend, fondly remembering the times when Luxord had let _him_ win, if only to cheer him up after a bad day.

Over time, the game wound down and Demyx was resting on his pillow, yawning and affectionately scratching Roxas’ head.  Dangerously close to falling asleep, he decided to pull out his sitar, hoping the music would keep him awake until Axel and Saïx returned.  Once he had tuned up the strings, he began to pluck out a few notes while Luxord shuffled the cards again.

“Ah, it looks like the little minstrel is going to play us a song.”

Demyx grinned, responding with an elaborate flourish.  He was strumming aimlessly for a while, playing scales and riffs to warm up his fingers when he noticed Roxas watching him.  Happy to have an interested spectator, Demyx decided to give the boy a show and played an excerpt from a song he’d been working on.  Roxas’ eyes seemed to fall into focus on him, his face bright and animated.

“Demyx.”

Demyx paused, dumbstruck.  He played the lick again, the exact same way, then waited to see if Roxas would respond.

“Demyx.”

The musician broke into a smile, and he happily performed the rest of the song for his new audience.  When he finished, Luxord demonstrated clapping for Roxas, and the two of them enthusiastically applauded Demyx’s miniature production.

“That’s the way, Roxas!  It’s polite to recognize the performer with applause.”

Roxas watched Luxord closely, mimicking his clapping motion so rapidly that it almost appeared frantic.  Demyx laughed, acknowledging their acclamation with an exaggerated bow. “Roxas must remember that song from earlier in the grey area.  I was playing it on the sofa during break.”

“Fascinating… you think he can remember melodies?”

“Who knows?  Maybe it’s all just noise to him.”

Demyx began playing a different song, one with a more atonal style.  Roxas watched with the same admiration, never once looking bored or annoyed by the sound.  He clapped every time Demyx stopped — even if he’d only played a quick arpeggio — greatly flattering him.  “Well, he seems to like it.”

Perhaps it was Roxas’ enthusiasm for his playing going to his head, or maybe he was just tired, but Demyx felt an oddly giddy sensation in his chest as he played for his friends.  Most of his comrades hated his music and found the sound of his instrument revolting, and they never hesitated to remind him as much. But Luxord and Roxas were gracious and polite as they listened.  If they disliked it, they certainly were good at hiding it.

The show was soon interrupted by a knock at the door.  Before anyone could answer, it opened and Saïx entered, closely followed by Axel.  The two appeared to be slightly disheveled and breathless, their cheeks a bit flushed.

“Welcome back, gentlemen!” Luxord greeted them with a smirk as they approached the bed.  “How was work? I trust the meeting was _stirring?_ ”

Axel covered his mouth, snorting and sharing a fist-bump with the man.  Saïx glared at them both. “Did Roxas behave himself?”

“He was a sweet little angel,” Demyx cut in, surreptitiously tucking the bag of chips out of sight.  It made several loud crinkling sounds, drawing nearly every eye in the room. “Quiet as a mouse.”

Saïx narrowed his eyes and folded his arms, clearly having seen the chips, but refrained from voicing his disapproval and instead addressed Luxord specifically.  “Did _Demyx_ behave himself?”

Before Luxord could answer, the musician scoffed at the implication.  “Come on, I did you jerks a favor. Roxas can read now and he knows his numbers!” he declared proudly.  “Show him, Roxas.”

He nudged his young friend with an elbow, ready to prove his point for his surly comrade.  When he’d garnered no response, he turned to discover the boy lying on the pillow perfectly still and with his enormous eyes restfully closed.  His mouth hung slightly agape, but he slept silently, never snoring once. Demyx froze, staring at the child and trying not to wake him.

“Oh, crap.  He’s out cold,” he whispered as an immediate hush fell over the group.  For a moment, not one of them moved a muscle, compelled to watch Roxas sleep as if mesmerized by the image of his peaceful expression.

“Well, that makes things easier for us,” Axel muttered, carefully lifting Roxas from the bed.  Even with the light jostling, he did not stir. “Time for bed, little guy.”

He cradled the boy delicately and carried him out of the room.  Before following them out, Saïx turned back, expressing his gratitude with no change in his icy glare.

“Thank you, Demyx, Luxord.  We’re in your debt.”

“I’m gonna remember you saying that!” Demyx shouted after him.  The door closed and the room was quiet again, save for the soothing tones of Demyx’s sitar and the fluttering of Luxord’s cards.

“What a cute little nugget,” Demyx beamed.  “I like him.”

“He certainly is endearing,” Luxord agreed.  “A very curious child.”

He presented his cards to Demyx, who carefully chose one from the middle and inspected it.  It was the Joker, a card Luxord rarely used.

“Reminds me of when you were a newborn.”

Demyx paused, eager to hear about the first few days of his life as a Nobody — a period of time that he couldn’t remember.  It was theorized that some Nobodies were unable to form memories until they’d had a day or two to adjust to life with no place to store them.  Demyx had no recollection of most of his first week without a heart, and he’d been told that because younger newborns often perceived the world differently, it was likely a blessing that he didn’t.  “You remember that?”

“Of course I do.”

Demyx giggled.  “You saying I was adorable like Roxas?”

“Oh, certainly,” Luxord winked at him.  “You were rather skittish, as I recall. Afeared of everything you encountered.  I had to examine every room for anything remotely frightening before you’d enter.”

Demyx rolled his eyes, plucking at a string until it made a harsh twang.  “Hardy-har, Demyx the coward.”

Luxord flashed him a cheery smile.  “I wouldn’t have had you any other way, my friend.”

“Aw, cut it out, Luxord…” Demyx muttered, blushing slightly as he resumed practicing his sitar, watching Luxord perform a series of short sleight of hand tricks with the Joker card.

“Much like Roxas, you were a child of few words.  I believe you learned to sing before you could talk,” Luxord reminisced with a fond gleam in his eye.  “You really were the Organization’s little minstrel.”

“Was I any good?”

“I’m unqualified to judge.  Tone deaf, you know,” he gestured toward his ear with a sad frown.  “But I always loved to hear your voice.”

He reached beside Demyx’s head, snapping his fingers and appearing to pull a card out of thin air from behind his ear.  He presented it to Demyx, revealing it to be the same Joker card. “I still remember the look on your face when I first performed a card trick for you,” he twirled the card between his fingers with virtuosic control.  “You spoke not a word, but it was quite clear that I’d set off a thousand explosions inside your head.”

“Which trick was it?”

“This one.”

With a sudden snap of his wrist, the joker card disappeared entirely.  He twisted his hands around, turning out his pockets and rolling back his sleeves, demonstrating that the card had simply vanished and was nowhere to be found.  Demyx grinned, shaking his head. “I still don’t understand how you do that…”

“I’ll never tell,” he insisted, playfully wagging his finger.  “Wouldn’t want to ruin the magic for you.”

As far as Demyx was concerned, there wasn’t anything the man could say that would ruin the magic for him.  Luxord had nothing to gain from spending time hanging around such a boneheaded youth, so much younger and less sophisticated than a man of his caliber.  He couldn’t fathom why his friend had stuck by him for all these years, but was grateful that he had. Their closeness was perfect in every way — platonic, but affectionate.  Casual, but no less intimate. Without Luxord’s friendship, Demyx would truly feel the absence of his heart, and his life would be dull and empty. His memory was peppered with splotches of darkness and gaping holes, but Luxord had no trouble settling in and filling in the spaces like the big brother he never had.

When they could think of no more words to say, they were silent, returning to their leisurely activities.  Conversation was not a requirement for them. Their company was satisfying enough, and they could comfortably spend several hours idly entertaining themselves separately, never once feeling as if they were being ignored by the other.  It was a peaceful method of social interaction, calming in how it eased their loneliness and maintained their connection without demanding that they don their ‘public’ masks and drain their energy performing a lackluster charade of extroversion.

Fatigue was setting in, yet Luxord didn’t want to leave.  There were a few memories, precious to him in a peculiar way, that he had not shared with Demyx.  It was true that the young adolescent was rather timid in his newborn days. So much so that he refused to sleep alone for his entire first week.  After a few nights of waking up to find the boy knocking on his door, trembling and in tears, Luxord decided to share his bed with him. Demyx quaked and whimpered in his sleep, curled up beneath the blankets and clinging tightly to his companion as he weathered nightmare after nightmare.  Luxord found that he missed those nights, long having accepted that back then, he had been just as afraid of the chilling unknown that was living without a heart. Yearning for company in the lonely hours of the evening, he came to eagerly anticipate the familiar knock on his door.

He became so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized the music had stopped.  He looked up to find Demyx, still holding his sitar, sound asleep. He stifled a chuckle as he cleared up his cards and carefully slid off the bed, wary of jostling him awake.

“You too, eh?” he whispered as he gently lifted the instrument from Demyx’s hands and set it aside.  He haphazardly draped the blankets over his sleeping body, just in time for him to emit a loud snore.  With another laugh, Luxord pulled a card from his pocket and laid it on the table beside the bed — the Joker.  Still smiling, he tiptoed toward the door and turned off the light, bidding his friend adieu on his way out.

“Goodnight, little minstrel.”

* * *

“Lea, it’s on backwards.”

Getting the coat off was easy — deceptively so.  The same could be said for the shoes and pants. Axel figured putting pajamas on a sleeping kid couldn’t be all that difficult.  They’d make quick work of tucking him in so that they could finally go to bed and get some sleep themselves. What could go wrong?

He had just finished slipping the flannel shirt into place when Saïx made the harrowing observation.  Surely he was joking. Axel had double and triple-checked to ensure that he was putting the shirt on properly.  Ready to scold his friend for yanking his chain, he peered closely at the garment. “What? No, it’s not— oh,” just as he was prepared to prove Saïx wrong, he quickly found the tag hanging from the collar just below the boy’s chin.  _Perfect._ “Okay, off it goes.”

The entire process might have gone more smoothly were Roxas not so restless.  He was out like a light, and had been since they’d brought him back from Demyx’s room, but instead of hanging limply like anyone else would be when they were sound asleep, he periodically tossed and turned and kicked and stretched, making dressing him a challenging task.  Saïx had insisted that it was normal for anxious newborns to sleep lightly, but Axel wondered if they shouldn’t tie the kid down so that he wouldn’t fall out of bed during the night.

He slid the shirt back up over the boy’s head and tossed it to Saïx.  If he wanted Roxas’ sleepwear to be worn in the proper orientation, then _he_ could figure out how to make it happen.  The first few steps went without a hitch and for a moment, Axel thought Saïx would be successful on his first try.  He was attempting to wrangle one of Roxas’ arms into a sleeve when the child began to moan and rolled over out of his reach.

“Hold him still, Lea.”

“I’m trying!” Axel hissed, exasperated.  “Gosh, how can the kid flail this much when he’s asleep?”

Saïx took hold of Roxas’ wrist again and the boy wriggled it back in protest.  He yawned and curled up to Axel, his arms closing around his torso. Any time they tried to peel him off and finish dressing him, he clung more tightly.  Axel, far too tired and frustrated to find it cute, sighed heavily. “It’s hopeless.”

Saïx thought for a moment.  This could all be solved by just waking the kid and telling him to dress himself.  It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how. But it was a risky tactic. They remembered how they’d found him thrashing about on his mattress that morning and how he’d burst into tears the moment his eyes were open.  If they woke him now, he might not want to go back to sleep, for fear of walking into the very same nightmare again. They needed a new strategy.

Fighting him was doing them no good.  Axel decided to try a gentler approach, hoping he could perhaps soothe him enough to release his tense muscles and get him to let go of his coat.  Axel very cautiously laid his hands on the boy’s back, drawing him closer and lightly caressing him. At first, Roxas seemed to tighten his grasp, locking his arms in place and burying his face from sight.  Although it appeared that he had failed, Axel was unwilling to give up so easily. He was exhausted and wanted so desperately to go to bed that he’d sing the child to sleep if he had to. He raked his fingers through Roxas’ hair, dragging them along his scalp and down his neck until he felt him shiver.

“It’s working, Lea.  Keep doing that.”

Little by little, he was able to settle Roxas’ nerves, and after several minutes of soft, repetitive touch, Axel could feel the boy’s body growing heavy as he finally relaxed.  Tired and exasperated as he was, it was hard not to smile as he watched Roxas sleeping soundly in his arms. He couldn’t quite understand it, but he simply liked the idea of being a source of comfort and security for him.  It was fulfilling in a way — something he could never have said for any of the other newborns he’d cared for. But then, the others were not so affectionate. They didn’t cry into his coat when they were afraid. They didn’t cling to him when they were lonesome.  They never smiled at him once. Although he didn’t really know how, Roxas was just different, and Axel supposed he could accept that and learn to live with the mystery.

Roxas’ body collapsed in a slump as he finally surrendered, falling deeply into sleep at last.  Axel and Saïx shared a nod, and his partner carefully reached for the child’s shoulder. When he didn’t flinch, he seized the opportunity and gradually coaxed him out of Axel’s arms.  As soon as he’d separated the two, he delicately replaced the shirt without any fuss. The two carefully tucked him under the blankets and he still did not stir, much to their relief.

Axel threw an arm around Saïx’s shoulders, smiling.  “Now that’s what I call teamwork.”

“Next time, he sleeps in the coat.”

Axel chuckled, playfully nudging him with an elbow.  “Let’s get outta here before he wakes up.”

Looking forward to a good night’s sleep, Axel headed for the door, closely followed by Saïx.  He was about to turn out the light when he noticed that Saïx had paused, staring at the bed with a peculiar expression.

“You coming?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  Without a word, Saïx stepped into the hall behind him, seemingly deep in thought.  Axel quietly closed the door and reached for his companion. “What’s up?”

For a moment, it looked as though Saïx was going to give him an answer, but instead had decided against it and shook his head.  “Nothing. Let’s go.”

The two made their way down the hall in silence for awhile, too tired to converse.  They had taken a few steps before Axel realized that his friend was no longer following.  He turned to find Saïx leaning into the wall, winded and appearing to be in pain. Upon Axel’s approach, he straightened his posture and resumed his usual stoicism.  “I think I’ll go have some tea. You can go to bed without me.”

Axel cupped his hands around his cheeks, sweeping away the stray hairs that had fallen into his face.  He was pale, and there were beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. “Hey… come on, tell me what’s wrong.”

Unwilling to lock eyes, Saïx only winced and shrugged out of his grasp.  Axel followed closely behind him as he headed for the kitchen. When they arrived, he hastily prepared the kettle and sank into a chair, resting his head on the table while waiting for the water to boil.  Axel peered at the tea bags, and when he caught sight of the label, suddenly it all made sense.

“Ginger tea.  Isa, why didn’t you tell me?”

His friend sighed, not rising from the table.  “Because you didn’t need to know.”

“I could have brought it to you.  You should lie down.”

“Walking helps.”

After a short period to steep, Axel brought the cup to the table.  Saïx sat motionless, and after some hesitation, Axel timidly laid a hand on his back, unwilling to jostle him further.  He should have known the man was sick. He’d been so wrapped up in caring for Roxas that he’d failed to recognize the signs.  In his embarrassment, Saïx often hid the symptoms from him, loath to complain of his discomfort, no matter how bad it was. Axel had trained himself to recognize the subtle giveaways and address the problem accordingly, and in turn Saïx became even more diligent in his efforts to conceal them.  In the past, Axel might have scolded his friend for keeping it from him, but they’d had that conversation so many times that there was simply nothing left to say on the matter. Axel rarely won those arguments anyway.

They sat in silence for some time while Saïx sipped the tea.  He appeared more relaxed as the minutes passed and eventually he set down his cup and turned to his partner.  “Do you remember our first few days as Nobodies?”

Axel cringed.  “Yeah… I do.”

“I remember what you said to me on that very first night,” Saïx continued contemplatively, dragging his finger around the rim of his cup.  “You said nothing has to change.”

“I meant it.  And nothing has.”

“Are you sure?”

If Axel had had a heart in that moment, it would have stopped with a swift thud.  The implications behind such a question were harrowing. He certainly hadn’t felt that anything was different and now wondered with what he could only describe as panic just what his lifelong friend had meant.  “I’m positive,” he replied, pulling his hands under the table and laying them in his lap to hide the trembling from him. “Do you feel like something has changed?”

“Perhaps,” Saïx’s eyes wandered the room aimlessly for a bit before settling on Axel’s face.  His thoughtful expression shifted almost immediately. “Don’t worry. That’s not what I mean.”

Axel didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he felt it all pour out of him in a heavy, shuddering sigh of relief.  “Does it have to do with Roxas?”

“I’m really not sure,” his friend tilted his head with a questioning look.  “There’s something about him. I can’t explain it.”

“Maybe you’re just attached,” Axel grinned.  “He’s cute as a button.”

Saïx emitted a barely-audible chuckle at the suggestion.  “The only person I’m attached to is you, Lea.”

“Am I cute as a button?”

Saïx didn’t have to say a word.  Axel caught the smirk that flashed across his face and had his answer.  The man’s words proved to be almost prophetic in how literally they came true.  Later, as the two lay in bed, waiting for sleep to take them, Axel smiled at the sudden warmth of Saïx reaching over and clinging to him in much the same way that Roxas had.  It was an apprehensive, childlike embrace that could only come from someone in desperate need of closeness and security — someone who needed the reassurance that he’d still be there when they woke up.  In their own unique ways, Saïx and Roxas both needed him, and he was more than happy to fulfill those needs. After all, he was just as attached to them — both of them. There was a satisfying sense of accomplishment in protecting and caring for Roxas, while at the same time, there was a warm intimacy in protecting and caring for Saïx.  For a moment, he felt almost like he did when he had a heart. Comfortable. Satisfied. Whole. Before he drifted off to sleep, he drew Saïx just a touch closer to him, freely admitting that he needed the embrace just as much. Perhaps things had changed. Maybe everything changed, and maybe it was all for the better. Or, Axel thought to himself as he let his heavy eyelids fall at last, maybe nothing had changed at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so much better about this story since restructuring it. Finally, I have some freedom! I've had a sudden rush of a TON of new ideas for this story and this AU in general. Thanks always for the comments and kudos! Stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 5

Castle Oblivion was an _ugly_ building.  On the outside, it was a haphazard mess of towers and spires pointing in all directions.  The colors were dark and dull, and the layout seemed impossible to traverse. On the inside, the rooms were immaculate, almost clinical in how bare and lifeless they appeared.  The walls were such a bright white as to be blinding, much like those at the Castle That Never Was. There were columns and doors of the same pristine white, as if the interior were an unfinished drawing that had not yet been filled with color.  It was clean and orderly, but unsightly and foreboding, and the atmosphere was no less eerie inside than it was outside. Each member of the team that had been sent there shuddered as they crossed the threshold, dreading their lengthy stay in such an unnerving abode.

“What a charming place,” Marluxia remarked, seemingly repulsed by everything he laid eyes upon.

Larxene wrinkled her nose.  “Just as hideous as home.”

“We’re not here to admire the decor,” Vexen snapped.  “This way.”

The group cautiously stepped into the entryway and headed for the only door they could see on the other end of the room.  Out of thin air, three Dusks materialized in front of it, undulating in place and awaiting instruction.

“There you are,” Vexen greeted them impatiently.  “Take us to the girl.”

The wobbly creatures passed through the door, leading the way up several flights of stairs and through another collection of doors until they had reached a large, empty hall.  A long dining table was situated on the far end beneath a wide window lined with sheer drapes, barely concealing the sunlight shining through. Slumped in a chair at the head of the table was a young girl with platinum blonde hair, naked and unconscious.

“She’s just been left here?” Vexen asked as the group hurried to the table.  The scientists hastily pulled off their gloves and nudged the girl’s tiny frame.  She was face down on the stone surface, motionless and silent, completely unresponsive to her visitors.

“I suppose the Dusks didn’t know how to care for her,” Zexion theorized, taking the girl’s wrist and searching for a pulse.  Her limbs were rather stiff, and her skin was alarmingly cold. To the untrained eye, she appeared to be dead. Even Zexion was unconvinced that they would be able to rouse her, but deferred to the superior scientist, who seemed far more confident than the situation warranted.

Marluxia peered at the child, arching an eyebrow as Vexen examined her for injuries.  “Is she alive?”

“Hmph,” Larxene scoffed, crossing her arms.  “She’d better be, or we came all this way for nothing.”

“She looks pale…” Zexion whispered, concerned as he continued searching for even the faintest beating beneath her skin.  The veins on her wrist were a deeply faded blue, and her flesh seemed to shrivel with dehydration. Every new observation was more disturbing than the last.  If she was alive, she was in pretty poor shape.

Vexen had lifted her to an upright position and was listening closely to her chest.  “She’s not even breathing. Zexion, have you found a pulse yet?”

“Not yet…” giving up on the wrist, Zexion pressed his fingers into her neck.  There was an inherent pressure in the meticulous search for signs of life, feeble as they might be.  He struggled to conceal the shaking in his hands as he poked and prodded at her throat, praying that they hadn’t arrived too late.  He was muttering under his breath as his motions became more desperate, chastising himself for believing for even a moment that he was nervous.

“She’s freezing,” Vexen’s tone grew more urgent and he barked an order to no one in particular.  “Get something to cover her, now!”

The Dusks vanished, leaving the rest to stand there, watching helplessly as the scientists attempted to revive the child.  Vexen was cycling through medical instruments from his bag, jotting notes onto his clipboard as he recorded measurements. “Her temperature is dangerously low.  Lips are blue, still not breathing. Zexion, the pulse.”

“Alright…” he had run out of excuses and had no more time to stall.  Just when Zexion was ready to forfeit and declare the child dead, he felt the tiniest beat against his fingertips.  “Okay, there it is, I’ve found it. It’s slow, irregular… and pretty weak.”

Although he’d used nearly every tool in his arsenal, Vexen still could not wake the girl.  Exasperated, he pried her jaws apart and looked down her throat. “No inflammation, no foreign objects… There’s nothing blocking her airways.  She should be breathing.”

“Should we do some compressions?”

“Yes, bring her to the floor—“

With a sudden, hoarse gasp and a jolt of her entire body, the child’s eyes sprang open wide, fully awake at last.  The sound startled everyone in the room and Zexion’s stomach flipped at the sight of her nearly jumping out of her chair.  “Whoa!”

Her eyes darted quickly between the men standing over her and, wheezing and whimpering, she began to struggle and thrash.  Stunned, the scientists restrained her in place as she fought to escape, staring at each other in confusion and rushing to console her.

“It’s okay,” Zexion murmured gently.  “We’re not going to hurt you.”

She seemed not to understand him, growing more frantic every second as her body writhed in protest.  Larxene took a few steps forward, bending down to gawk at the girl. Part of her had hoped that another female presence might soothe her apparent anxiety.  She certainly wished that she could have had that brief glimpse of familiarity on the day she had lost her heart and was born as a Nobody. Alas, Larxene had only awakened to an intimidating male figure in a black cloak, and that was all she would ever see for many years to come.  Furthermore, her presence seemed to have no effect on the terrified child at all. “The heck’s her problem?”

“She’s scared,” Marluxia answered, disinterested.  “Isn’t that obvious?”

Larxene shot him a seething glare.  “Don’t be a smartass.”

“Enough, both of you,”  Vexen cut off their bickering, growing weary of their irritating compulsion to stand around unhelpfully.  “Easy, child. Just relax. You’re safe.” This really was more Zexion’s forte. Despite Vexen’s efforts to calm her down, the girl squirmed, desperate to wriggle herself free, and he was left with no alternatives.  While discreetly motioning for his young apprentice to reach into the bag for a sedative, he tightened his grip on her shoulders, careful not to cause any harm as he held her in place.

“If you can hear me, take a deep breath and settle down.  You’re going to be fine.”

While Zexion prepared the injection, Vexen peeked into her eyes.  They were glossed over, cloudy, and lacking pupils altogether, as he had suspected.  She likely could barely see them as any more than blurry shapes, and their voices were probably reaching her in muffled drones.  It was no wonder she was frightened of them. They probably looked like monsters to her. Seeing that there would be no way to communicate with her in such a state, he nodded to Zexion, who pierced the syringe into her arm.  She yelped, trying to wrench out of their grasp, but was no match for the scientists’ strength.

It was at this that Larxene objected, incredulous that the two would use drugs to quiet the child.  How many times had she seen that needle herself? How many times had she been told she simply needed to stop screaming at everyone and _relax?_ She could hear every word as if spoken directly into her ear.  Claims behind closed doors that a _woman_ could not join the Organization.  Accusations of _hysteria,_ as if the group were some medieval cult of monks, alienating her like a witch.  If there were ever a memory she wished she could purge from her brain, it was of those long afternoons spent lying in bed, at anyone’s mercy, staring at the ceiling and lacking the energy to lift even her eyelids.  She lay motionless, her head swimming with sedation, threatening her with sleep so powerful as to leave her defenseless, a sitting duck in her own home. If she could fight nothing else, she fought that veritable death trap tooth and nail and refused to ever sleep without supervision.

“What did you do to her?!” she shouted.  “Was a tranquilizer necessary?!”

“It’s only a mild sedative.  It’s not enough to knock her out,” Vexen retorted in a hushed tone.  “Now keep your voice down or you’ll frighten her more.”

Paying Larxene no mind as she stomped off in a huff, Vexen and Zexion returned their attention to the girl.  Rather than watching the syringe, she stared the younger apprentice right in the eyes. Zexion winced at the sight of tears spilling down her face, and the subsequent look of betrayal she wore.  Recalling his promise not to hurt her, he was prompt in dispensing the medicine, quietly shushing her until she finally started to relax. At last, the injection was complete and he removed the empty syringe from her arm, following quickly with a wad of gauze and an adhesive bandage.  With a meek smile, he swept the stray locks of hair from her face and lightly brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “That probably stung.”

Ignoring his apology, she dropped her head and avoided eye contact with the scientists as her body fell limp in their arms and her shoulders slumped.

“Don’t fret, Zexion.  It was for her own safety,” Vexen affectionately ruffled his young partner’s hair, endeavoring to ease his apparent guilt.  Where the older man was cold and clinical in his interactions with patients, Zexion’s uncanny inclination toward bedside manner was quite a useful skill in the haphazard practice of medicine the two managed in the Organization.  Oftentimes, however, it seemed the boy’s empathy would get the better of him, whether he had a heart or not. Vexen supposed he was just sensitive in that way, a trait likely attributed to that mysterious third eye he seemed to possess.  Nevertheless, he had always found the behavior endearing and vowed never to discourage it.

Satisfied that he’d regained control of the situation, he patted the girl gently on the back.  “There now, it’s alright,” he assured her as the violent convulsions began to dissipate and her hyperventilating slowed to a more regular pace.  “We’re here to help.”

She pulled up her knees and began to shiver, staring at the ground and still appearing quite agitated.  Just as Zexion was searching around the room for a rug or other cloth to warm her with, the Dusks reappeared, thankfully out of the girl’s sight, carrying a worn, scratchy throw blanket they claimed to have found in the basement.  They presented it to Zexion before vanishing once more, and he wrapped it around her trembling body, smiling as she lifted her head and looked directly at him again.

“Hello, there,” he bubbled warmly.  “Are you feeling better?”

She spoke no words, but reached for his hand and clasped her fingers tightly around it.  Even Zexion found the gesture shocking, considering it was only moments ago that the she fought so desperately to escape them.  Rather than question how he had managed to earn her trust, he grinned, giving her hand a gentle squeeze in return. If nothing else, he was relieved that she seemed willing to cooperate with them.  Internally, he was thrilled to have made a connection with such an apprehensive patient. “Okay. I’ll protect you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

There was still obvious trepidation on her face, but she calmly submitted to Vexen’s examination.  He shined a light across her eyes, peeked inside her ears and mouth, and slid his fingers along her neck and jaw.  She was quite thin, bordering malnourished. Her muscles were weak and her bones were frail. She was in desperate need of water, and her vitals were still quite erratic, but the longer he monitored her, the more her numbers leveled off.  The haze in her eyes was clearing and a slightly pink hue was returning to her skin. Despite her sickly appearance, the child was surprisingly healthy, all things considered.

“She’s stabilizing quite nicely,” Vexen declared, turning to record some notes on his clipboard.  “Child, can you speak?”

The girl turned to face him, saying nothing but clearly indicating that she could at least hear him.  Disappointed, he hummed softly, scribbling some more. “Perhaps not.”

He was about to resume his tests when he was startled by an unfamiliar voice.

“N-N…”

Everyone in the room froze on the spot, staring at the child as she attempted to speak.

“Hm?  What is it?” Vexen prompted her.  “Are you trying to say something?”

She appeared to struggle, contorting her face in concentration.  “N-Na… mi… né…”

Vexen turned to Zexion with an entirely clueless look.  “What did she say?”

Zexion only shook his head as the girl continued her attempts to communicate with them.  “N-N… Nami… né… Naminé…”

“Naminé?” he repeated, unsure if he’d understood her properly.

“That’s what it sounded like.”

“What does that mean?”

The child prepared herself with a long breath.  “M-My name… is… Naminé…”

There was a lengthy beat as the adults stared at her, dumbfounded by the revelation.  Although it was likely that she still couldn’t see them, it was clear that she knew she was being watched intently.  She pulled the blanket more tightly around her, locking eyes with Zexion and shooting him a pleading expression.

“Uh… Hello, Naminé,” Zexion replied politely.  “My name is Zexion, and this is Vexen.”

Vexen appeared to ignore the introduction as he wildly scribbled his notes.  “She has a name already? That’s unusual…”

“And she’s speaking in complete sentences.”

“Xemnas did say she was a mystery…”

“Naminé, tell us, what is the last thing you remember?”

She dropped her chin, closing her eyes in thought.  For awhile, she seemed to only concentrate on breathing, slowly and steadily, learning how to use the body she’d only just acquired.  The scientists were quite patient as they waited for her to answer, and after some time, she spoke again in a very meek voice.

“K-Keyblade… in my chest…”

A collective gasp echoed in the room and Vexen shook his head, clucking his tongue.  “What an awful thing to do to a child.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Marluxia wondered aloud.

“A keyblade wielder…” Zexion hypothesized somewhat to himself before addressing the group.  “It can only be Sora, right?”

The older scientist stroked his chin thoughtfully.  “You think she’s a victim of the Keyblade Hero?”

Marluxia scoffed, folding his arms.  “Some hero he is if he goes around attacking children.”

The child began to waver in her seat, clutching her chest and squeezing her eyes shut.  Concerned that she would begin to panic again, Vexen set down his clipboard and reached for the bag of supplies, but Zexion intercepted him with a wave of his hand, determined to placate her with words alone.

“Naminé?” he leaned in.  “Are you alright?”

“My chest… hurts…”

With a piteous look, Vexen shook his head with a sigh.  “It must be the memory of her final moments.”

“It’s okay, Naminé,” Zexion assured her.  “We won’t make you answer any more questions.  You’ll feel better after you’ve had some rest.”

“I f-feel… dizzy…”

Her breaths became shallow and labored and her skin was losing its color again.  She was wincing, emitting gasps and whimpers as she destabilized. Vexen monitored her vitals closely, digging through the bag for a remedy, but before he could find anything, Zexion felt her grip on his hand relax and all at once her body collapsed against him.

“Naminé?  Can you hear me?” he gave her a gentle shake, garnering no response.  “She’s unconscious.”

Vexen nodded.  “Let’s take her downstairs.”

Zexion lifted her from the chair and cradled her in his arms as he carried her out of the room alongside his fellow scientist.  With nothing else of interest in sight, Marluxia waved to Larxene to follow him out, and the two were about to exit when something caught his eye.  Lying on the center of the table was a brown, spiral-bound notebook of some sort — one that he was certain was not there previously. He approached the table and cautiously picked it up, turning it all around and inspecting its covers.  The book possessed no identifiers of any kind — no title, no names, no graphics, not a single word anywhere.

“What’s this?” he whispered curiously.  “A notebook?”

Larxene groaned impatiently.  “What’s in it?”

He carefully pried it open, flipping through it to find that it was full of blank pages.  “It’s empty. There’s nothing written in—“ he stopped turning and stared intently at a page toward the back of the book.  “Ah, just a moment.”

Larxene peered over his arm, squinting at the contents of the page.  It was a drawing of a strange person in red clothes and with brown, spiky hair.  The illustration was child-like, hastily scribbled with crayon and very colorful.  The figure stood with its arms and legs outstretched, staring out of the page into the distance.  It was the only image that the notebook contained.

“Who’s that?” she asked, puzzled and raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head, not recognizing the subject.  “I don’t know.”

He scanned the room for any other clues that may have appeared from thin air as the notebook had, but found nothing out of the ordinary.  He shuffled through the notebook once more, hoping to find a name printed somewhere or perhaps more artwork. Other than the image of the boy in red, there was nothing else inside it.

“Do you suppose it belongs to the girl?”

“Pfft, I don’t know,” Larxene shrugged.  “Let’s just go ask her.”

They descended the staircase in silence, passing through identical rooms along the way.  The interior layout certainly didn’t match the exterior at all, and the discrepancy only heightened Marluxia’s curiosity.  He could scarcely imagine the strange power this place was hiding within its piercing walls, and the discovery of the mysterious girl was yet another intriguing variable to explore.

“Interesting specimen we’ve found.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Larxene muttered.  “I hate kids.”

Marluxia thoughtfully stroked his chin as he walked.  “I think this is more than a mere child we’re dealing with.”

“Look, as long as I don’t have to take care of her, we won’t have any problems.”

He cringed slightly, counting on his fingers to display his loss for alternatives.  “Vexen and Zexion will be working on their project downstairs. Lexaeus and I will likely have to intercept the Keyblade Hero to stall for time.  That leaves Axel… and you.”

She halted in her tracks and whipped around to face him.  “Marluxia, I swear if you stick me with that brat—!”

“Relax,” he interrupted her with an icy tone.  “You don’t have to befriend the girl. Just investigate what sort of power she possesses and leave the _parenting_ to Axel.”  He grinned menacingly, cupping her chin.  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Eugh,” she gagged, jerking out of his grasp.  “You mean you’ll make it worth _your_ while.”

“You don’t enjoy my company?”

“Not nearly as much as you do, Marluxia.”

She continued down the steps, intent on leaving him behind, but was quickly stopped by a change in his voice.  “Elrena.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Ugh, don’t call me that.”

He approached slowly, his expression having softened.  Before she could protest, he took her by the shoulders.  “Just be patient. Everything is falling into place quite nicely.  Victory will be ours,” he leaned in and lowered his voice, hovering only inches from her ear.  “We need only play our cards right.”

She had no response left for him.  It was Marluxia she had followed into the Organization, and it was Marluxia who had protected her from the clutches of her twisted comrades — those disgusting men who only kept their distance out of respect for his _property._   It was a reality she endured with whatever dignity she could muster, motivated only by the promise of regaining that which she had lost.  But she’d long since learned that to hope for a heart was futile. She’d been sweet-talked one too many times, and she wasn’t about to let herself be fooled again.

She averted her eyes, standing perfectly rigid and refusing to watch as he planted his lips onto her neck.  His charm had long since worn off. These tricks no longer worked. Where she used to melt at his touch, she now froze solid.  Where he used to dazzle her, he now disgusted her, and nothing she could say could properly convey her contempt for him, her resentment of being once again assigned to join him on a mission — not as his equal, but as his _underling,_ forced to be subservient to him over and over until it had finally gone to his head.  She hardly recognized him anymore. But, Marluxia was her only chance. Despite her searing disdain for his presence and for this eyesore of a castle and for the petulant _baby_ she’d been saddled with, this plan of theirs was the only way out.  He’d never given her any reason to, but she had no choice but to trust Marluxia’s words again, and hope that that trust wouldn’t be misplaced.  Larxene wasn’t sure how many more disappointments she could take.

* * *

It was an especially warm day for Twilight Town.  The Sandlot had been converted to a playground where dozens of children were chasing each other with foam bats, climbing on monkey bars, sliding down slides, and engaging in light horseplay.  On one end of the lot, some younger children were piled onto a wooden structure, pretending that they were sailing on a pirate ship. In another corner were some older kids dueling with play swords and trying to impress each other with tricks on the jungle gym.  Young girls were jumping rope and playing hopscotch, young boys were wrestling and sparring. All the while, Roxas had stepped off to the side, sitting on the ground and just watching quietly.

Axel sighed and squatted beside him.  “Roxas, how come you’re just sitting here?  Doesn’t any of this look fun?”

Roxas turned to face him, silent as usual.  His expression was typically unreadable, but at the very least he didn’t appear bored.  Supposing he wouldn’t get an answer, Axel patted him on the back. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?  Well, there’s no pressure, but I bet you’d kick major butt over there with the foam bats. That looks like a good time to me!”

Roxas followed Axel’s gaze, still saying nothing as he observed the competing youths.  Seemingly out of nowhere, a pair of boys skated by so quickly that they nearly barreled right into them.  They skidded to a halt a few feet away, panting and arguing about who won the race. One of them pointed back toward Axel and Roxas and they both waved rather sheepishly.  “Sorry! We didn’t mean to get so close!”

Axel chuckled.  “That’s okay. By the way, blue helmet over here was the winner.”

The boy wearing the ocean blue helmet thrust his fists into the air.  “Yes! See? I told you so!”

His friend, wearing a fire engine red helmet and thick pads on his elbows and knees crossed his arms with a huff.  “Aw, man! Let’s have a rematch over there where there’s less people in the way.”

“You’re on!” the boys were about to take off when the one with the red helmet turned back to Roxas.  “You want to be our referee? You can watch the finish line and tell us who wins!”

Roxas only stared blankly at him and Axel nudged him on the shoulder.  “Come on, Roxas, that sounds fun! You should join them.”

With curious eyes, the boys took slow steps in their direction.  “Is he okay? What’s the matter with him?”

Axel paused for a moment, unsure how he ought to explain.  “Uh, well… He can’t talk that much yet.”

The boys knelt in front of Roxas, peering a bit too closely at his face.  “You can’t talk, huh? Well, that’s okay. We’ll do all the talking. I’m Renny and this is Cal.”

Although Roxas had clearly understood the introduction, he was as mute as ever.  Axel gave him another gentle nudge with his elbow. “Come on, don’t be shy. Tell them your name.”

Roxas’ face twisted in concentration and Axel refrained from interrupting him further.  Finally, after a long gap, he managed to speak. “R-Roxas…”

“Roxas?” the boy with the red helmet, Renny, tilted his head.  “Well, nice to meet you, Roxas! Hey, come play with us. I’ll let you try out my skateboard!”

He extended a hand and pulled the boy to his feet, beckoning him away to a far corner of the playground.  Roxas hesitated briefly, facing Axel with a slightly apprehensive look. Axel ruffled his hair, bending down to whisper so that the other boys wouldn’t hear.  “Go on, buddy. Have fun. I’ll be right over here, okay?”

With enough gentle coaxing, Roxas followed the boys, listening quietly as they babbled about the rules of their racing game.  Axel was just heading back to the sidelines when he saw an object flying right toward his head at high speed. It was quite small and moving so fast that its blurry shape was unfamiliar.  He could hear a loud cacophony of children’s voices shouting frantically, but couldn’t make out what they were saying through all the noise. Finally, one voice pierced through the rest, hollering a warning that he picked up just in time.

“Watch out!!”

With impressively quick reflexes, he caught the object and recognized it immediately — a frisbee.

“Hey, mister!” a collection of kids were hurrying across the lot, almost completely winded.  “Could you toss it back?”

The children were staring at him expectantly with wide-eyed anticipation on their faces.  He felt a familiar warmth as he clutched the frisbee in his hand. Just looking at it transported him to his own past, sprinting through an open courtyard in pursuit of a similar toy.  Isa had always thrown it too hard, sending it soaring high over his head and at such high speed that Lea could hardly see it. He remembered quite vividly the thunderous pounding in his chest as he chased the disc all over the square, dodging townsfolk along the way.  Then, the stunning victory of finally taking a leap and catching it once and for all, beaming brightly as he tossed it back to a positively shocked Isa.

Barely concealing his smile, Axel nodded and gestured for the kids to put some distance between them.  He flung the frisbee toward the far end of the lot and, cheering wildly, they all bolted in the direction of the flying disc.  With his mind saturated in pleasant memories, Axel wandered back to his old friend, seated on a bench and hidden beneath his thick black hood.

“Why are you wearing your hood up?”

“We are supposed to keep a low profile.”

Axel raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the excuse.  “I think we’ll draw more eyes with our hoods up than without.”

Saïx had his eyes fixed on the ground, but Axel could hear the aggravation in his voice.  “You know I don’t do well in the sun.”

“Yes, yes, I know.  You have very…” Axel walked his fingertips up Saïx’s back, eliciting a visible shudder from him.  “ _Sensitive_ skin.”

Not amused by the joke, Saïx flinched at his touch.  “Don’t do that.”

Axel could not help but notice that Saïx seemed rather uncomfortable.  His posture was unusually rigid, and his breaths were a bit heavy. His responses were short, almost strained, and he seemed to be intentionally avoiding eye contact with his companion.

“Hey,” Axel laid a hand on his shoulder.  “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Saïx answered tersely.  “Why do you ask?”

“You’re…” Axel thought a moment.  “Quiet.”

“Is that unusual?”

“No, but,” he scratched his head.  “I don’t know, you seem tense is all.”

Axel thought he might have misheard in the noisy lot, but could have sworn he heard an audible gulp from his friend.  He wondered if perhaps the sweltering heat was bothering him, taking a moment to scan the crowded arena in search of a spot with more shade.  The sun seemed to pour into every crevasse of the lot, leaving the entire playground awash in its unforgiving rays. Restless mothers and impatient fathers packed into the few patches of shade available, bouncing squirming infants, fanning themselves, and chattering nonstop with their fellow parents.  Axel and Saïx’s comfortable spot on the bench, although tucked against a wall and largely out of the sun, provided little relief from the muggy atmosphere.

He couldn’t get any more answers out of Saïx, so he returned his attention to the field to check in on Roxas.  The boy was wobbling atop a skateboard, fiercely clenching Renny’s forearms for balance as the boys slowly dragged him back and forth on the pavement.  As soon as they were confident that he could maintain an upright stance on his own, they gradually released him and he rolled a few feet before toppling over onto his backside.  Axel thanked the stars that not only was Roxas wearing a helmet, but that Saïx was looking the other way.

After a long while, the crowds began to disperse as children followed the adults out into the streets and back toward the center of town.  Toys were collected and returned to a large bin in the corner of the lot. Friendly gestures of farewell were exchanged between groups of kids as their parents summoned them away.  When their numbers had dwindled until only a few teenaged stragglers were left, Saïx let out a heavy exhale and lowered his hood.

“I suppose we ought to feed him.  Retrieve him, Lea.”

Axel caught a glimpse of his face, barely stifling a gasp upon the sight of him.  Saïx was so pale that he was nearly transparent, and his jaw was visibly clenched as he spoke.  It was no wonder he was wearing his hood up — if Axel didn’t know any better, he’d swear the man was in pain.  Swallowing down his concern, he nodded and approached the young boys performing tricks in the far corner. “Hey, Roxas!  Ya hungry?” Axel patted him on the shoulder with a smile. “Come on, buddy. We can play more later.”

“Bye, Roxas!” the boys delivered high fives and waved to Roxas as Axel led him away.  “Come back again real soon, okay?”

They collected Saïx and left the Sandlot, soon arriving at a small bistro in the Tram Common where they were seated outside on the front terrace.  Roxas’ curious eyes darted in every direction as he took in the sights around him, so much so that he had to be reminded to eat his lunch. In a bold choice, and much to Saïx’s chagrin, Axel had ordered himself a thick, greasy cheeseburger, and a second one for Roxas.  Although the boy devoured it rather sloppily, he appeared to enjoy it, and his caretakers were relieved that he hadn’t choked on such an oversized meal.

Axel grinned as he dragged a napkin across Roxas’ cheeks.  “Hey, I think he just hiccuped!”

Saïx, who had been picking at a salad that he’d hardly touched, muttered with a flat and uninterested tone.  “Splendid.”

“Come on, you can’t tell me it’s not adorable.”

“Are you going to celebrate every milestone like a new mother?”

Axel burst into a hearty laugh.  “Oh please, everybody knows I’m the daddy.”

An increasingly annoyed Saïx rolled his eyes, giving up on his meal entirely and laying down his chopsticks.  “It gives me a sense of comfort and stability to know that you will never reproduce.”

Snickering, Axel lowered his voice to a teasing whisper.  “One of these days, my friend, he will break you. You will melt into a puddle and I will finally be able to say I told you so.”

“Hmph,” Saïx smirked in his own way.  “I look forward to it.”

Amidst their banter, Roxas had been cautiously and rather ineffectively nibbling at his burger, smearing grease and condiments across his face.  Axel chuckled, dabbing his mouth with the napkin again. “Do you like it, Roxas?”

“Ugh,” Saïx wrinkled his nose in disgust.  “I don’t understand how you people can eat things like that.”

“It’s easy,” Axel held up his burger, slowly advancing toward him with it.  “You just open your mouth and—“

“You keep away from me,” the man growled, blocking his approach before addressing their young comrade with a slightly menacing voice.  “Roxas, perhaps you’d like to visit the library. I’ll show you a picture of what that used to look like.”

“Oh give it a rest, will you?” Axel scolded him.  “We were _meant_ to eat things like this.”

“Who made that decision?” Saïx posed, crossing his arms and appearing eager for a debate.

“Uh, the food chain,” Axel retorted and resumed eating his lunch, keeping an eye on the child beside him all the while.  By the time he’d finished, Roxas had only surpassed the halfway point with his sandwich, which now lay fallen apart on his plate.  Giggling, he reconstructed the boy’s lunch and nudged the plate toward him before returning his attention to his partner with an apologetic sigh.  “Come on, let’s not fight in front of Roxas.”

He hovered over the table, aiming to plant his lips on Saïx’s cheek.  Much to his surprise, the man recoiled, pushing him away with a scowl.  “Don’t.”

Axel stared, genuinely baffled by the reaction.  “What’s the matter?”

“Low profile,” Saïx muttered coldly.  “Besides, I can smell it on your breath.”

Although he was aware that he was deliberately pushing the man’s buttons, Axel was increasingly wary of his partner’s apparent malaise.  For the entirety of their visit to Twilight Town, he’d been especially stiff and irritable, and although Axel had repeatedly pressed him for an explanation, he remained guarded and avoided the conversation altogether.  Any further prodding only resulted in more displays of the man’s short temper, followed by more concerted efforts to conceal his rapidly deteriorating condition.

Unwilling to provoke him further, Axel backed off, settling his focus on Roxas for the time being.  He ordered the boy an ice cream bar, thrilled to see the look of delight in his eyes as he took his first bite.  Over the next several minutes, he greedily lapped at his dessert while watching townsfolk strolling about the square.  It was fascinating that the child was so enthralled by all the little details of the world that most seasoned adults overlooked.  Nothing was dull or boring to him, and Axel admired how the boy could make his own fun out of anything. He endeavored to take a lesson or two from him on living whatever existence they could claim to the fullest.

The waiter laid the bill on the table and Axel figured they ought to leave soon.  Just then, he was startled by the sound of a sudden gasp. He glanced at Saïx and found him hunched over the table with a pained grimace, breathing heavily.

“Isa?  Are you alright?” he clasped his hand.  “You really don’t look so good.”

Ignoring the question, Saïx paused for a short period, taking the time to just breathe.  When the unexpected spasm had passed, he forced a straight face and changed the subject. “Why don’t you take Roxas for a walk in the plaza?”

Hoping that Roxas would be sufficiently occupied with his ice cream stick for a few more moments, Axel quietly implored his friend.  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sick?  Do you want to go back?”

“Don’t coddle me, Lea.  I’m a grown man.”

“Does that mean I’m not supposed to care about you?”

Saïx was silent again, still catching his breath.  Roxas had left the table and was dawdling a few paces away, staring into space as he walked in circles.  “Don’t let Roxas out of your sight,” Saïx rose from his chair with a grunt. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go before he runs off.”

Defeated once again, Axel laid their munny on the table and accompanied him to the exit, waving Roxas along as they headed back out into the plaza.  They meandered through the marketplace for nearly an hour, peeking into shops, admiring the merchandise, and reading colorful posters and signs. It seemed as though Saïx experienced no more of his episodes, and Axel trailed behind the ever more curious and energetic Roxas, following him closely as he wandered in all directions, gaping cheerfully at the chaos and bustle around him.  The boy soon took a special interest in a farmer’s market with a large bin full of shiny red apples.

“Well, hello there, boy!  Do you like apples?” The portly merchant smiled as he advertised his product.  “These are the sweetest apples you’ve ever tasted, I guarantee!”

Although he didn’t speak a word, Roxas’ face was plastered with happiness.  The merchant raised a questioning eyebrow, stroking his silver beard. “What’s the matter, son?  Can’t you talk?”

Roxas dropped his head, seeming to concentrate hard for a second before opening his mouth.  “Apple.”

The shopkeeper flashed a toothy grin and erupted in an enthusiastic belly laugh.  “That’s right, my boy! This is an apple. Here, take one! It’s a gift from ol’ Farmer Arlo.”

He tossed Roxas a particularly large piece of fruit, and the boy took several moments to inspect it, turning it over and closely examining the entire outer skin.  It was almost perfectly round and without a single blemish, and when he finally took a bite, his eyes widened and his cheeks broke into a gleaming smile.

“Ha!” Farmer Arlo patted him on the head.  “You’re a cute kid. You enjoy that apple and remember Uncle Arlo will always be here to give you more delicious produce for a good price!”

With a generous handshake, Farmer Arlo stepped away to greet some other customers, leaving Roxas to devour his apple and continue exploring the many kiosks in the area.  He strayed a bit too far and Axel was just catching up when he heard a thud behind him. He turned to find Saïx, having collapsed to his knees on the ground.

“Isa!” he rushed to meet his friend and knelt beside him, peering closely at his face.  “Talk to me, man.”

Concerned citizens were forming a ring around them, gawking openly as they approached.  Saïx covered his head, crouching low to the footpath. “They’re all staring… Make them leave…”

“Nobody is staring at you,” Axel rubbed his back.  “It’s okay.”

Sweat was pouring down Saïx’s face and his breaths amounted to little more than shallow wheezing.  He clutched at his abdomen, tightly clenching the leather of his coat in his fists. With his suspicions confirmed, Axel sprang into action, taking the man by the shoulders and holding him steady.

Saïx groaned softly, wincing as he spoke.  “It hasn’t been this bad since—“

“Shh.  Look at me,” Axel pressed a finger to his lips, cupping his chin and locking eyes with him.  “Take a breath. If you panic, you’ll make it worse.”

They should have been prepared for this.  He’d had several calm months of relief, but it was only a matter of time before the affliction flared up again.  Sometimes, Saïx likened the painful spasms to being stabbed with a hot spear, other times comparing them to the sensation of something squeezing his innards until they burst.  Sometimes it was a burn, other times it was crushing pressure, and the episodes were typically accompanied by intense nausea. There was never any warning. There’d never been any explanation for the occurrences.  There was no cure, and there was no consistently effective treatment for the pain he suffered.

Saïx had leveled his breaths, managing a few words in between.  “It isn’t stopping…”

“It’ll pass.  Keep your head up and don’t close your eyes.”

They were motionless, kneeling in the middle of the street for several minutes while waiting for the sudden bout to subside.  Passers by stepped around them, averting their eyes and keeping a wide berth. Finally, Saïx’s posture began to relax as it seemed the pain and nausea had dissipated slightly.  Axel wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, taking him by the elbows and preparing to lift him off the ground. “You need to rest. Let me get Roxas and we’ll go back.  We can come to Twilight Town another day.”

With Axel’s help, Saïx staggered to his feet, wavering in place for a moment as he regained his balance.  They scanned the area, searching for their young comrade among the crowd.

“Roxas?” Axel called out.  “Buddy, where’d you go?”

“You lost him?”

“I didn’t lose him,” Axel blurted, wringing his hands.  He squinted at every patch of black he could see, but not one of them belonged to Roxas.  The boy was nowhere in sight. “He just, uh… wandered off.”

Saïx huffed, dropping his face into his palm.  “Damn it, Lea. He could be anywhere.”

“Oh come on, he couldn’t have gone far.”

They retraced their steps, searching through every shop, down every alley, and at every stall that had piqued his curiosity.  Farmer Arlo only shrugged when asked about the boy’s whereabouts, apologizing profusely and offering to help search. The two declined and rushed back to the bistro.  They checked every table from the entryway and still there was no trace of him. Just when they were beginning to panic, a bus boy who had been sweeping dirty dishes into a tub nearby noticed their struggle.

“Something I can help you fellas with?”

Upon being nudged by Saïx’s elbow, Axel cleared his throat before spitting out a hasty response.  “Uh… yeah. W-We’re, uh, looking for a kid wearing a coat like ours.”

The bus boy stroked his chin, raising his eyes in thought.  “Hmm, now that you mention it, I do recall seeing a boy just wandering around looking lost.  Big wide eyes.”

Axel and Saïx shared a look.  “That sounds like him. Which way did he go?”

“I think he headed off in that direction,” the man pointed to a large hole in the town’s outer brick wall.  “Toward the forest. Sorry I couldn’t go after him, he disappeared by the time I’d set my stuff down…”

The pair were no longer listening to him.  All the color drained from Axel’s face. Not the forest.  Anywhere but the forest. Roxas hadn’t learned to fight. He would be defenseless in there.  “Ah, crap…”

Saïx grabbed his sleeve and pulled him toward the exit.  “Come, Lea. Quickly.”

Axel waved back at the bus boy as he was dragged away.  “Uh, thanks, sir!”

They hurried through the opening in the wall and into the forest to find a collection of menacing creatures zipping around in all directions.  Some were black, insect-like entities that shuffled in place, some flew in the air and spit fire into the grass, others wore oddly-shaped helmets and were armed with swords.  The monsters flailed and swiped as they rushed in circles without any target, attacking at random as if at war with each other.

“Heartless,” Axel whispered, scouring the area for their young friend.  “Roxas! Are you in here?”

Axel and Saïx bolted into the center of the horde, discovering that they’d all been closing in on one spot, creating a pile so thick that it was difficult to see their prey.  Axel was summoning his chakrams when he heard Saïx gasp.

“Lea, there he is!” he shouted, pointing toward the swarm.  Squinting, Axel could see three humanoid figures. He recognized two of them as Renny and Cal, swinging their skateboards at the monsters, knocking them back one by one.

“Mister!” the boys hollered in desperation.  “Help us!”

Heartless were closing in on them, dangerously close to overwhelming the them.  Axel and Saïx wasted no time plowing through the pack of monsters to reach the helpless kids.  They were effectively clearing a path when something caught Axel’s eye and made his stomach drop so hard it knocked the wind out of him.  Behind Renny and Cal, Roxas was pressed against a tree, cowering with his arms over his head. Even from several meters away, Axel could clearly see the fear in his eyes when the boy lifted his face and screamed his name.  The image would haunt him in his dreams, and the terror in the poor child’s voice was something he would not soon forget.

_“Axel!!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a nice long chapter for ya! Plenty of angst and fluff to go around. Thanks to my readers! Always love hearing your feedback and I get a little spark of joy whenever I see a new kudos. Happy Holidays!


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